Fille du Roi
by Nautical Paramour
Summary: Hermione is sent to a new colony by King Voldemort as part of a population growth scheme as a ward of the state. After making new friends, she learns to deal with a new husband. He has plans that don't match up with King Voldemort's reign, and he recruits Hermione to commit a revolution. (Loosely) Colonial AU. Antonin Dolohov/Hermione. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey guys! Here is a new story that I am starting, based on the real life program called Filles du Roi, in which the King (of France) would send young women to the colonies to get married and help the bolster the population. This is a variation on that, an AU obviously, with King Voldemort and a colony of Death Eaters. I have done a little research, but not too much. You should consider this to be set approximately in the 1600s. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) to get sneak peeks and the like.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter one and be on the lookout for chapter two soon!

* * *

Hermione remembered that fateful day seven years ago, when she was taken from her parents, with scorn. Even though she was now a woman, it seemed just a few months had passed since she was stolen, while simultaneously feeling like an age.

She'd been a happy, yet solitary, child, daughter to Richard and Jean Granger. Her father had been educated as a surgeon in France before moving back to England and settling down with his wife, who volunteered her time as a nurse. Richard was widely known for his teeth extractions, removing pain from hundreds of people throughout the county. They weren't part of the genteel class, but they did quite well for themselves, and never went without food or comfort.

Hermione was raised comfortably, her parents able to afford a private tutor for her, as she was considered quite gifted with intelligence. Hermione had dreams of going to University, perhaps becoming a surgeon as well, or going the Royal Academy of Sciences.

But, as intelligent as Hermione was, it was undeniable that something was different about her. From an exceptionally young age, it was noted that strange things always happened around her, almost as if it was magic. Books she would want would fly to her, animals were drawn to her, and she had a nasty habit of breaking things to pieces when she was upset, all without lifting a finger.

So, when the _woman_ came to their house, it couldn't be said that Richard and Jean were surprised that there was something different about their Hermione. The woman sat on their settee in a tight pink dress that barely contained her flesh, scooping spoonful after spoonful of sugar into her tea - causing Richard much distress - and told them that their daughter was special. She was a _witch_.

Dolores Umbridge told them about a wonderful school that Hermione could come to, be educated, and learn to control her gifts. The only thing was that Hermione would not be able to come home for seven years, until she completed her education.

Looking at her parents with wobbling lip and watery eyes, Hermione begged them not to send her away. She promised she'd learn to control her magic on her own, and she'd never tell anyone that there was something _wrong_ with her.

Her parents, eyes glazed and expression serene, told her it was a wonderful opportunity and signed the paperwork for Dolores Umbridge to take her away to the magical world. With a wave of her wand - a short wooden stick - all of Hermione's things were shrunk and packed away, and she was being lead away from her childhood home, tears streaming from her cheeks.

When they arrived in the magical world, Hermione was quick to learn that the magical school that Umbridge had promised to her parents didn't exist. Or, if it did exist, that it wasn't where she was brought. Instead, she was taken to Merope Gaunt's Home for Half-Blood and Mudblood Girls.

 _Mudblood._

Hermione quickly learned that's what she was and that the word was a bit of a slur. It made her lower than low in this society that she'd been forced into. If she had it her way, Hermione would have liked to go back to her parents. She'd prefer to live life as a muggle.

The home was run by two women who could not have been more opposite. Dolores Umbridge managed the administrative side of things, while Minerva

* * *

McGonagall had taken care of the teaching side. Hermione had been promised that she would taught, but she soon learned that she wouldn't be allowed a wand like the half-blood girls.

It stung. Sure, she'd been different, even lonely, but at least Hermione knew that she was destined for great things. In this magical society, she was told that she was barely fit to serve the pureblood upper echelon of society, controlled tightly by King Voldemort. It hadn't taken Hermione long to form a negative opinion of the despot.

There were several other mudblood girls in the home with her. Lily Evans had been a beautiful, kind young woman, who took Hermione under her wing when she first arrived. According to Lily, there had been a time, before King Voldemort, that muggleborns could go to Hogwarts and own a wand, just like any other witch or wizard. But then, Lily had aged out of the program and one day she just wasn't at the home any more.

Myrtle Warren, called Moaning Myrtle by the rest of the girls, was constantly crying, and Hermione couldn't spare her time for the girl. Penelope Clearwater was a few months older than Hermione, but the blonde girl detested her for constantly questioning Umbridge. The muggleborn girls frequently shared punishments if one of them stepped out of line, and Hermione had brought about her share of punishments.

If there was one thing that Umbridge hated, it was being questioned. Umbridge was always singing King Voldemort's praises and she'd been lauded several times for keeping such degenerate girls in line, but Hermione didn't believe the propaganda. From the day that she'd dragged Hermione from the muggle world, kicking and screaming, the pink witch had loathed Hermione and wanted her gone as soon as possible.

That was fine with Hermione. She didn't particularly fancy sticking around.

The one bright spot in the Merope Gaunt Home for Half-Blood and Mudblood Girls was Minerva McGonagall. The older woman had previously worked at Hogwarts, but protested the treatment of muggleborns during Voldemort's rise to power. Apparently, she was told if she loved mudbloods so much, so could go teach them, and was thusly sent to teach at the home.

While Umbridge hated Hermione, Minerva saw great potential in the young girl, shocked by the raw magical talent that she had. Minerva was dismayed that Hermione would only be learning household cleaning and mild healing charms. Things that might help when they eventually aged out and were sent to work with pureblood families.

Minerva could only imagine the power that Hermione could wield if she were allowed a wand, but she didn't dare even allow the girl to try anything with her own wand, due to the severe repercussions. It could mean death for both her and Hermione.

Still, it didn't stop Minerva from telling Hermione about how wonderful the wizarding world had been before Voldemort and all the wonderful things she could have learned if she'd been properly educated. She would lend the younger girl runes and arithmancy books - magic that could be taught without a wand - and Hermione proved to be an excellent student.

Sometimes, she imagined what Severus could have done with her capable mind. She was a natural hand at the potions brewing they did at home - nothing more complicated than a pepperup potion. Minerva cursed herself that she hadn't devoted more time to learning potions, as she would have liked to teach Hermione some more advanced potions.

Minerva had argued with Dolores many times to appeal to have Hermione taught by a proper potions master, or even an increased budget for potions ingredients, but the stubborn witch had refused, determined to make the bright mudblood's life as worthless as possible.

If Dolores had her way, mudbloods wouldn't even be brought into their society any more. As soon as their birth was recorded in the Ministry, they would be located and drowned. They were unnatural and caused more trouble than they were worth.

Dolores couldn't wait for the day that Hermione Granger would be gone from the Home, shipped off to some pureblood family. She would have to match the stubborn witch with a traditional family, with no aversion to corporeal punishment, as that seemed to be the only way to get any message through to the girl.

Yes, maybe the Blacks. Arcturus Black was very old and would need a lot of help around his household, but he was well known for his mudblood hatred. He wouldn't let this girl get away with anything.

* * *

Owl post was something that had consistently amazed Hermione since she'd been dragged into the wizarding world. She longed to learn how the owls knew where to go, but it seemed that it was a mystery even to Minerva, which Hermione thought was a bit ironic, given her Roman namesake's affinity with the creatures.

Hearing Umbridge's girlish giggle after receiving the wizarding post had Hermione immediately set on edge. It could only mean something awful was about to happen, as the woman wasn't capable of enjoying anything truly good. She took delight in the pain and misery of others.

Internally, Hermione prepared herself. She knew this was probably the time that she was aged out of the home and some appropriately awful pureblood wizarding family would be taking her in. Even though she didn't fancy working for others, it gave her hope that she might be able to get hold of a wand. It was likely that they were more lax with wand security than Umbridge.

But what the letter contained ended up being much worse than Hermione excepted. "Our most gracious King has created such a generous program, girls." Hermione bristled at her words, not wanting anything to do with King Voldemort. "There is to be an expedition to Canada, where they have started a new colony. Miss Granger has been selected to participate on my recommendation."

Hermione's brows furrowed, wondering what purpose sending her to a colony would have. Surely, she would be able to escape a colony with much more ease than the established Wizarding community that she currently resided in. Luckily, she wasn't the only one who was confused with the pronouncement. "Just what is the purpose of this colony, Delores?" Minerva asked, her brogue stern and firm.

Umbridge giggled again. "Well, Minerva, the colony is almost entirely populated by male Death Eaters, and the King would like to see a vast expansion of their numbers." The pink woman smirked at Hermione, while dropping another lump of sugar into her tea.

"I beg your pardon, Dolores, but does our King know that Hermione is muggleborn?" Minerva asked delicately. Usually, the Death Eaters were quite the blood purists, and she couldn't imagine Hermione joining their ranks. "It's not as if she can become a Death Eater."

"Oh Minerva." Umbridge chided her, with a condescending smile. "Miss Granger isn't going to _become_ a Death Eater. She's going to marry one and give him as many children as King Voldemort requires." Umbridge looked at Hermione and gave her a mean little giggle.

Hermione dropped her spoon at that news. She was absolutely shocked. Getting married was never something that she had planned on since she'd been pulled into this world. Who would take her, after all? "Why would they send me, and not…" Not a good pureblood girl, her mind provided, traitorously.

"Well, Miss Granger, King Voldemort knows that he can't take pureblood girls from their families. They would never consent to their daughters being sent to the wilderness." Umbridge told her, only too happy to divulge the thought process. "But, in order to make the marriage desirable to the Death Eaters, he has offered to pay the dowry of every girl that goes to Canada. I have been assured that he is paying quite handsomely."

It turned Hermione's stomach that not only could King Voldemort dictate who she was going to marry, send her to a new country, but would pay a dowry for it as well. It seemed a bit odd. Umbridge couldn't resist one more jab. "It's being called Filles du Roi! You should be so lucky to have the King take over your fatherly duties." Hermione didn't much like the idea of Voldemort acting as her father.

But...she wouldn't give Umbridge the satisfaction of seeing her cry at the breakfast table, so she kept her eyes on her porridge, trying to think of anything else but going to Canada.

In the weeks that followed Umbridge's pronouncement, Hermione wasn't allowed to attend lessons, and instead was instructed to begin building a Hope Chest to take with her on her journey. Hermione was glad that one was provided for her, because she thought that Umbridge might just force her to go chop down a tree to make one herself, mocking her poor carpentry skills all the while.

Hermione did take her time working embroidering spells into her linens and tablecloths, as she was quite gifted with household magic. Or rather, she was skilled with all kinds of magic, but she hadn't been able to flourish at the Home. Hermione also packed all assortments of clothing that she'd been provided, though she thought that the low cut robes and corsets wouldn't do very well in the wilderness of Canada.

Umbridge had insisted that Hermione hand sew her own wedding dress, and provided her with some coarse linen, but when Minerva saw it, she said it wouldn't do. Instead, the older woman provided Hermione with fabric she'd saved for her own wedding, before Minerva's betrothed had died in the Uprising.

The white lace and silk fabric was beautiful, but unfortunately for Hermione, better quality fabric didn't make her a better quality sewer. To her joy, it became something of a nighttime activity to help Hermione sew her dress, with both Penelope and Myrtle helping her. Penelope was quite good at fashioning the dress together, and Myrtle added ornamental beads.

In the end, the dress looked quite beautiful, but it hurt Hermione's heart to think of actually wearing it. It made her long for her parents. She couldn't imagine getting married without them by her side, to a groom she'd never met. To make matters worse, she knew that Death Eaters had quite a reputation for being violent and hating muggleborns. What if her husband hurt her?

Her fears were constantly on her mind and each day that ticked by left Hermione feeling more and more anxious. She began crying herself to sleep at night, only to scold herself for acting too much like Moaning Myrtle. At least if she was in Canada, she'd be out from under Umbridge's thumb, though she would miss Minerva greatly.

One day, not long before Hermione was to leave, Minerva spoke to her after lessons were complete for the day. "Oh, Hermione. I wish that you didn't have to go through this." She opined, and wrapped Hermione in a tight hug. For a girl who rarely had any human touch, it was difficult not to cry.

Minerva had pulled back and wiped the tears from Hermione's eyes. "There, there. Don't cry lass." She said, motherly and warm. "I have some good news for you. Come, let's sit next to the fire."

Hermione eagerly sat on a chair next to Minerva, eager to read whatever was said on those papers in her mentors hands. "Well, what is it? Am I ineligible?" She could hope so much.

She shook her head, wry smile on her face. "No, you are eligible, but the decree was written very broadly, so as to encourage as many families as possible to participate and send their daughters. You cannot be compelled to marry."

Hermione wanted to whoop with joy, but knew that there must be more to it than just that. Taking the papers - the entirety of the decree creating the Filles du Roi program - she let her greedy eyes read over them. There were all kinds of rules, but there were also protections.

"See here." Minerva pointed out a passage. "You have to be chosen, but if you aren't chosen-" she trailed her finger further down the parchment, "after a year, you can keep the dowry."

The young woman couldn't keep the smile from her face. "That would be wonderful. It's so much money." Her eyes widened at the dowry amount. "I could buy land there then, start over. Maybe I could even come back to Britain eventually."

Minerva smiled, encouraged that Hermione's life wouldn't be too terrible. "Exactly. Think of the opportunity that that much money could provide for you, Hermione. Just keep your chin up, it won't be so terrible."

Hermione felt hopeful for the first time in weeks. She'd also get to keep the contents of her Hope Chest, which, while it wasn't a complete household, it would go a long way in getting a house up and running.

"And…" Minerva continued, shuffling some papers. "If you look here, there is even a provision for a divorce, if the marriage isn't well suited after a year. Even the bride can initiate the proceedings."

"Why wouldn't Umbridge tell me any of this?" Hermione asked, no longer worried about the expedition. It was beginning to seem like a fun adventure for her.

Minerva gave her an incredulous look. "Why do you think? Dolores has disliked you since the moment you came here. She wants to cause you as much discomfort as possible."

"Oh, Minerva." Hermione said suddenly. "I am going to miss you so much." Hermione whispered to the other woman, who had become something like a mother to her in the last seven years that she'd been at the Home. Minerva was the only one who saw any potential in Hermione, believed in her at all, and she couldn't imagine not having her support any longer.

Minerva smoothed her hair. "I will miss you too, Hermione. But I know that you will make me proud." Standing, the woman offered Hermione a hand to shake, which Hermione gladly accepted. "Now, best of luck to you."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews, favorites and follows! It means a lot and I hope you keep enjoying this. I am sure there will be some historical inaccuracies or anachronisms in here, so give me a holler if you find one that is really too awful. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post occasional sneak peeks and other bits. Also, full credit on "Reuben Yaxley" to calebski. I really can't imagine him having any other name after all of calebski's great work.

Antonin is actually in this chapter, so I hope that you enjoy. Please let me know what you thought of chapter two and be on the lookout for chapter three soon!

* * *

The day that Hermione was to leave the Merope Gaunt Home for Half-Blood and Mudblood Girls came sooner than expected, but with the new revelations from Minerva, it didn't seem as much like a punishment any longer. If anything, Hermione thought that it would be a great opportunity.

Dressed in her best robes, she was accompanied by Umbridge to the docks, where they would meet the other girls who were also headed off to Canada. Hermione was excited to meet some of the other girls, as she'd really only had Myrtle and Penelope the last few years, and the three of them just didn't really have anything in common.

"There it is!" Umbridge called cheerfully. It looked like their first portkey - to Belfast - was to be a giant metal anchor. Hermione supposed it was a good idea, because there were a lot of girls - perhaps fifteen in total - coming along for the journey, and she would hate to have to jostle to get a hold of the thing. "Go on then." Umbridge said, pushing Hermione roughly forward.

Hermione was glad that the woman didn't try to say goodbye to her, because at this point, Hermione refused to exchange false pleasantries with the woman who had made her life hell for the last seven years. The woman who took her from her parents and was sending her to another country with the hope that she'd be miserable.

With her trunk shrunk in her pocket, Hermione stumbled forward, grabbing onto a piece of the anchor. Hermione had never taken a portkey before, so she wasn't excepting the spinning feeling in her stomach when it suddenly activated, sending the world around her in a blur.

Falling flat on her arse in the docks of Belfast, Hermione looked around, barely paying attention to the handler who was bringing them overseas. It seemed that the next leg of their journey, to Reykjavik, would have to be by boat, because portkey technology did not currently allow travel across such long distances.

She was helped up by a girl with long blonde hair and a pleasant, dreamy expression on her pale face. "Hello. My name is Luna." She said, her voice just slightly lilting. It made Hermione feel welcomed in a way that she hadn't previously experienced in the wizarding world.

"Thank you, Luna. I'm Hermione." She said, returning the smile, and smoothing the skirts of her robes. Biting her lower lip, she wanted to get a bit more information about her traveling companion. "Are you a muggleborn witch as well, Luna?" She knew it wasn't exactly appropriate to talk about blood status in public places.

Luna shook her head, sending her hair whipping back and forth around her head. "No, I am a half-blood."

"Why did your parents send you?" Hermione asked, unable to contain her curiosity, especially considering she had significant anger at her parents for just letting her be taken away. Maybe she and Luna might have a bit more in common.

"Oh, I'm a ward of the state, so I didn't really have a choice." Luna said as though she were discussing the temperature of her tea. "My father was arrested last year for being a political dissident." She told Hermione, matter-of-factly.

Her mother as unspoken and it seemed rude of Hermione to bring it up. "What did your father do?" Umbridge only ever shared good news about King Voldemort, so news that there was any kind of faction working against him was news to her.

"Oh, he wrote some things about King Voldemort that weren't well received." Luna said, before shrugging toward the waiting boat. "Shall we settle ourselves aboard?" She grabbed Hermione by the hand and began leading the way.

Once they were onboard, they found themselves seated next to a girl with brilliant red colored hair, pin straight and perfect. The girl was the epitome of prettiness, Hermione thought, unlike her wildly brown hair and slightly too large teeth. Luna introduced them.

"I'm Ginny. Ginny Weasley." The red haired girl told them. Luna seemed to recognize the last name of their new companion, but Hermione didn't.

"Are you...are you a muggleborn?" Hermione asked a bit stupidly. She felt that, like Luna, perhaps she should already know who this Ginny Weasley was.

Ginny laughed. "No, I am a pureblood. Probably the only one out of this whole group." She said, her brown eyes sweeping over the deck, looking at the other girls, before turning back to Luna and Hermione. "My parents couldn't afford my dowry, owing to the fact that I have six older brothers."

"But how could they just send you to another country? You might never see them again." Hermione asked, a bit aghast. It was easier for her to leave - she didn't really have any family left.

"Well, it was really just too much money to pass up." Ginny said, running her fingers through the tangles in her hair. "And I thought that it might be a bit of an adventure." Hermione could agree with that idea, as she thought exploring a new world would be an adventure. A terrifying adventure.

With little fanfare, the boat pushed off from the port and they began their journey to Iceland. The three girls got along quite well with one another, and Hermione felt hope bubble up inside of her that this might not be all that bad.

After all, with such a concentrated population, it wasn't as if she wouldn't ever be able to see Luna and Ginny, and really, it would be wonderful to have real friends.

* * *

From Reykjavik, the girls were ferried via portkey from Greenland, to St. John's, to Halifax, to their final destination, which Hermione understood to be an hour's broom ride from Quebec, near to the Saint Lawrence river.

She was so tired at the end of it, getting barely four hours of uninterrupted sleep on the ship from Belfast, she thought she might fall asleep on her feet. With Luna and Ginny, they followed the rest of the girls to a large barracks that had been prepared for their arrival. A comfortable bed to rest on, Hermione fell asleep immediately and then slept until morning.

When morning came, they were woken by the woman that would be running this new barracks. The girls were each given a bath and told to dress. Her trunk returned to its usual size, Hermione looked for something comfortable to wear, but was dismayed to learn that what she had packed really wasn't suited for the weather.

Afterwards, the girls were all brought into a front living room for a short interview with the woman in charge, an extremely prissy woman known as Septima Vector. She interviewed each of the girls briefly, before informing the group that the first set of suitors would be by that day to meet with them, and possibly even select brides.

Hermione couldn't believe that she hadn't even been there a full day and already they were trying to match them up. With her heart beating wildly in her chest, Hermione cursed herself for taking such fastidious care of herself while bathing, thinking that it might make her seem more attractive.

Also, she was a bit annoyed that the men would just waltz in and pick one of them, and then she wouldn't even have the opportunity to decline their suit. It was nearly barbaric.

She sat with Ginny and Luna, and Luna commented on her hands shaking, but nothing the other two said could calm their nerves. The first man to arrive was a tall blond man, with long hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. He had decidedly cruel gray eyes, and a permanent scowl on his face.

He scanned the room, looking over all the girls before settling on their little cluster in the corner. He crossed the room in long strides, before stopping in front of them. "You, are you a Weasley?" He demanded of Ginny.

Hermione once again felt a bit stupid that she didn't know who the Weasleys were before the previous day. Ginny stood and curtseyed. "Yes, Ginny Weasley, sir. And you must be Lucius Malfoy." She countered.

The blond man, Malfoy, gave a self satisfied smirk. "Well spotted, Miss Weasley. You'll do. Come along."

And just like that, Hermione's new friend Ginny was pulled out of her life, just as quickly as she'd been put in. Hermione was so thankful that Malfoy hadn't even given her a second glance. "He picked her because she was a pureblood." Luna said, perhaps trying to comfort Hermione, though it only made her wonder what kind of fate she would have if she ended up with a husband who despised muggleborns.

The two other men that came by that day left without choosing a bride, to Hermione's joy.

That night, in the dark of the barracks, Hermione whispered her plan to Luna. She told her that they would be able to claim their dowries for themselves should a husband not be found for them after one year. Luna was surprised to hear this fact, and agreed that it would be preferable to marrying someone she didn't know.

The next two weeks passed slowly, and Hermione and Luna passed their time embroidering under the strict eye of Septima, helping to prepare food, reading quietly, or playing cards with one another. They'd already gotten through a second round of suitors without even being spoken to.

Hermione's hopes were up that they could actually make it. How long would it take before all the men had been by? As she'd heard it said, it was quite the compact little society here in Canada.

The third time that suitors came by, they were not as lucky. Two men came in, who were clearly related to one another. Each had dark hair with bright blue eyes, but one was considerably larger than the other, while the younger one looked a bit rakish. He had an easy smile, and showed off white teeth while he looked around the room like a predator.

To Hermione's horror, his eyes seemed to linger the longest on Luna's laughing face, and before long he was walking over to their table. "Hello Miss…?" He said, his eyes solely on Hermione's best friend. Luna's pale cheeks were quickly overcome with two telltale red spots when he kissed her hand.

"Lovegood. Luna Lovegood." She responded quietly. Hermione watched in horror while her new friend's face seemed to transform in shy admiration of the older man. Sure he was good looking enough, but Hermione had thought Luna was on board with avoiding marriage.

The man's face was transformed by a wide smile, making him look much more welcoming, but Hermione still thought he was likely a wolf in sheep's clothing. "I'm Rabastan. Rabastan Lestrange." He asked Luna a few more questions about herself and what she did before she left England, before finally proposing to her. "Luna, I think you and I are well suited. How would you like to come with me, get married?"

Hermione held her breath until Luna finally nodded her head yes. With her eyes closed to blink away surely forming tears, Hermione hugged Luna tightly and wished her all of the best in her new life.

Luna cocked her head to the side. "I am sure it won't be long until we see each other again soon, Hermione." Hermione hated the eerie way Luna made pronouncements like that. They usually ended up being true.

But Hermione wasn't just going to roll over and let some Death Eater take her and marry her. With her two friends gone, Hermione was even more determined to last the entire year, collect her dowry, and then...who knew what her future would hold.

She watched with a heavy heart as Luna and Rabastan walked away, collecting the larger man on their way out. He'd been leering at a pair of giggling twin girls, with annoying names like Flotsam and Jetsam. "Come on, brother. You already have a wife." Rabastan said, clapping the man on the back and leading him from the house.

* * *

Antonin Dolohov was a man of few friends and fewer words. He'd come to England when he was just a lad, at the insistence of his mother, newly widowed, and looking for the luxury that was abundant in England. She envisioned herself being a young socialite and England was the promise of a new life without her oppressive husband holding her back.

Things didn't exactly go to plan when she realized that English society had little tolerance for a half-blood witch, with two brats, who couldn't speak a lick of English. By the time that he'd gone to Hogwarts for schooling, he was nearly completely isolated from anyone but his mother and older sister.

When he got to school, he was held back by his thick Russian accent, intense embarrassment from speaking to others, and general misunderstanding of social customs. His sister tried to help out, but for the most part, she'd done her time integrating into Hogwarts, and wouldn't be held back by an annoying little brother.

It wasn't until he'd gotten into his first duel in the hallways that his classmates began to respect him. He'd gotten a week of detention and a reputation for being dark, but at least his classmates weren't shoving him around any more. Plus, he didn't understand why his spells should be considered dark when they were commonly used in Russia.

He passed through the rest of Hogwarts mostly friendless, occasionally spending time with Rabastan Lestrange, but desperate to belong. So, when King Voldemort - just a revolutionary at that point - began recruiting men for his uprising, Antonin jumped at the chance. With his reputation as a dark wizard he was gladly embraced into the Death Eaters.

It was while he was working with the Death Eaters that he became much closer with Rabastan Lestrange and Reuben Yaxley. The three of them went on multiple missions together, and after five years they stood victorious, Voldemort crowned as King.

Only, it didn't take Antonin long to realize that Voldemort was just more of the same. Lavish parties, wasteful spending, and the oppression of a new group. Only now, dark magic was widely accepted. Before he knew it, Antonin despised Voldemort and the whole regime, but he suffered in silence, growing more and more bitter each day, until ten years had passed at it was more of the same.

When King Voldemort told Antonin he was sending him on the expedition to Canada, it was the final straw. Antonin didn't want to go to a cold wilderness, alone with some odd thirty men. Sure, his friends would be there too, but Antonin didn't want to put in all this work to get a colony to run smoothly just to be exploited by King Voldemort.

But, he'd been too stubborn or too cowardly to say no, and before he knew it he was in Canada. Now, a year later, King Voldemort was once again trying to impose his supreme will on Antonin. They were bringing women to the colony, which was a distraction that they just didn't fucking need right now. It was a barely functioning community as is.

Sitting at one of the back tables with Reuben at the bar - which was conveniently the first structure they'd constructed - he scowled at the thick beer he was drinking. They had gone through the firewhiskey the first eight months. "Why isn't Rabastan here?" He demanded gruffly.

His friend smiled at him, little wrinkles at the corner of his sharp blue eyes. "You know that Rab went to pick out a wife today. I would say that because of his absence, he was successful."

Antonin hoped that whatever wife he'd picked was someone that Rabastan would actually like to marry, and not just the best of a bad bunch. "I don't know why he'd even bother with that." It was true. Rabastan had seemed the eternal bachelor, but perhaps after being surrounded by only other men in the colony, he was ready to settle down.

"You should go sooner rather than later, at least just to look." Yaxley encouraged. "Before all the good ones are taken. I heard that Malfoy got the only pureblood of the lot."

That was another thing that made Antonin grind his teeth. King Voldemort preached about the dangers of mudbloods, but then continued to bring them into their society, selling them to pureblood families to serve. And then, he even sent them to the colony to marry. It was hypocritical at best. "You know that's not my game." He told Yaxley with a scowl. As a boy, Antonin had continually been reminded that he was just a half-blood, so blood purity was never something he embraced whole-heartedly.

"Still, there might not be many pretty ones left." Yaxley continued needling.

"I don't see you looking." Antonin countered with a sneer. He didn't want a wife, and if he had his way, he'd never set foot inside that glorified auction house.

"You know I've got a wife." Reuben responded darkly. True, he had a wife he hated back in England, one he was only too happy to leave behind. Really, Antonin thought, it wouldn't surprise him if Reuben did get a new wife to replace one he had back home. "Don't you think it's only a matter of time before they make you get one? We both know they will be wanting us to make a good example."

Antonin shook his head. He thought that the women were supposed to encourage more people to come over from England, but it wouldn't look good if the men in the colony didn't even enjoy the privilege. Still, Antonin known who he was, and it wouldn't push his short temper and terrible moods onto some unsuspecting girl. He was nearly through with taking orders. "Don't see how I could make a good example for anyone."

Reuben gave a hearty laugh at Antonin's words. It was true that his taciturn friend wasn't likely to be made the poster boy for any government sponsored program. He'd rose in the ranks because of his ruthlessness and disregard for the rules, not for being likable. "Well, I can drink to that mate."

The two knocked their mugs together, before drinking deeply. Antonin was determined to press the _filles du roi_ out of his thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, favorited and followed after last chapter! Glad you are liking the characterizations so far. The more I write, the more they seem to be settling in. Alright, this chapter has the infamous meeting, so I hope you enjoy. You can follow me on tumblr where my handle is nauticalparamour.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter three and be on the lookout for chapter four soon!

* * *

In a blink of an eye, seven whole months had passed for Hermione living with the other filles du roi. It hadn't all been smooth sailing. As the number of girls in the home declined, the more likely it was for a suitor to give her a second look, but she'd managed to scare all of her potential suitors off.

After Luna had left, Hermione began doing a really bad job of taking care of herself. While she still bathed, she did absolutely nothing to tame her hair, causing it to become a big bushy mess that usually deterred most of the Death Eaters, who were used to perfectly coiffed pureblood ladies. Septima figured out her game pretty quickly, though, and soon began brushing Hermione's hair for her every time after she would bathe, and it became somewhat of a ritual between the two. Septima was strict, but she didn't necessarily agree with the program, especially when the women did not want to get married.

Still, Septima liked to see Hermione looking quite pretty, and would sometimes give her subtle cosmetic charms to make her look more presentable. With Hermione having been there so long, Septima also gave her the best picks of fabrics for new dresses, and helped Hermione with dress and robe patterns that suited the Canadian climate better.

When the men began to notice her new appearance, Hermione was able to deter them by being exceptionally rude. All of these men wanted easy wives, and a mouthy one was sure to bring more trouble than she was worth.

Every day that passed, Hermione knew that she was so much closer to getting her hands on the dowry. She only had five more months and then she would be out of this house. But first, she would have to get through another day of meetings with whatever Death Eaters came looking today.

Hermione was sitting by the window, reading through a book on the flora of Canada for about the fiftieth time, ignoring the men that came in the door, except for a brief glance. It seemed there were four today, which was slightly more than usual. Perhaps King Voldemort had sent more of his soldiers overseas recently. She would have to try especially hard today to go unnoticed.

She was so enthralled in her book that she didn't notice the man who'd come to stand in front of her, until he cleared his throat. Sensing his shadow towering over her, Hermione gave a surprised squeak and dropped her book. Before she could reach for it, he bent over and retrieved the book for her.

"Your book." He murmured quietly.

Hermione reluctantly grabbed the book from his hand, with a lot more force than was necessary. Even by his brief words, Hermione could tell that he wasn't originally from England. Perhaps Eastern Europe, she would wager.

Determined not to give the man any false hope, Hermione scowled at him, before returning her attention to the text, refusing to thank him. She desperately hoped that he would get the message and leave her alone, but to her dismay he sat down on the edge of the table in front of her.

"What is your name?" He asked, his dark eyes glittering in the sunlight, and they seemed to promise Hermione that he was not a nice man. He was a dangerous man. His dark hair was slightly long and wavy and from her seated position he seemed impossibly tall.

"Hermione." She said tersely. She found herself unable to look away from his gaze. It was best to nip this in the bud before he got any ideas. "Listen, you are wasting your time with me. I'm a mudblood." She spat the word out, knowing that most Death Eaters wouldn't even let a muggleborn touch them. She tried to return her eyes to her open book.

His response startled her. "I don't care."

She gasped and looked up, noticing his eyes perusing her body, and giving her all kinds of chills. The situation was getting much more desperate and she didn't want him to chose her. She gave him another glare when he finally looked back at her face.

Seeing her look of disgust had the man chuckling, showing off perfect teeth. "I think I will choose you."

Hermione stared at him a bit longer. He was certainly not a teenager, but it was so hard to tell a wizard's true age because they tended to age slower than muggles. He was tall and broad and made Hermione feel positively tiny in comparison. You could almost feel his raw energy, raw power rolling off of him.

Normally, Hermione would find all of that very attractive, but she certainly didn't want to get married to this stranger, whose name she didn't even know. He was going to ruin her chances of getting her dowry! "I'm not a virgin." She said spitefully, knowing that while her statement was untrue, was usually a final straw to talk a man out of picking her.

The man, perhaps seeing through her lie, or perhaps calling her bluff, rolled his eyes and raised his wand at her. "Virginitas verificare." He said simply, only to have a bright white light flare out from Hermione's belly.

Around the room, she could hear the three other men perhaps teasing or congratulating the man who had chosen her. She thought she noticed a hint of a blush on his stubbled cheeks. "Come now, Hermione. You are all out of excuses. I choose you." He said firmly.

Hermione felt tears prickling in her eyes, but she knew that there was no getting out of this. Feeling all her hopes and dreams for her dowry disappearing before her eyes, she reluctantly took the man's much larger hand in her's and let him lead her from the parlor to where Septima was waiting.

Septima looked at Hermione with something like apology shining in her eyes. She gave Hermione a tight hug that lasted longer than expected, the woman rubbing soothing circles on Hermione's back.

When she let her go, Septima went to pack and retrieve Hermione's trunk, only to give it to the man who would become her husband, a man whose name she didn't even know.

* * *

In all her time in Canada, Hermione had never been able to explore the new village that King Voldemort's supporters had created. Sometimes, they were able to explore the countryside surrounding the barracks where she'd stayed, but never to the city, and never too far away.

Her future husband took her arm and in an instant they were standing in front of a building in the city center. Unused to apparition, let alone side along apparition, Hermione was overcome with nausea. Noticing that she was unsteady on her feet, the man wrapped his arms around her tightly, surprisingly bringing her some comfort. "Not used to apparition?" He asked quietly.

Hermione grimaced and nodded. "I've only been apparated once or twice before." She told him. "It's very different from portkey."

He quickly covered up his surprise, before leading her towards the building they were standing in front of. Reading the sign, Hermione determined that it was a Office of Records of sorts. The man behind the corner seemed to recognize the man she was with. He smirked at her. "Finally tying the knot then, Dolohov?"

The man - Dolohov - grunted and pulled Hermione forward before filling out the required paperwork. She read over his shoulder and saw his full name - Antonin Dolohov. So this was the person who was going to be her husband. "Last name?" He asked her, not bothering to look up from the paper.

Hermione stared at his tight handwriting. It was very neat. "Granger." She supplied, watching him write in her details. She provided him with her birthdate, blood status and other various things. She also watched as he filled in his own information, annoyed that this is the way that she was going to learn anything about this man. Based on her quick sums, Hermione figured he was about fifteen years, maybe closer to twenty, older than she was.

Dolohov handed the other man the paper. Hermione looked over at him and noticed that he was leering at her. She pressed herself against Dolohov, and he seemed to notice the other man and gave him a nasty look. "Well, I look forward to your wedding in-" he glanced down at the page "-three days, sweetness."

After they left the records office, Dolohov actually prepped her before apparating her again. "Well, shall we go...home?" He asked, before offering her his arm, and popping them away.

Whatever home Hermione was expecting when she opened her eyes, this was not it. It was little more an a glorified cabin, wood framed, and very basic. The sun was already setting by the time they arrived there, so she couldn't see too much of the surrounding area, but it seemed remote. He wasn't in anyway embarrassed by the accommodations and let her inside to a living room and kitchen area. "Well, home sweet home." He told her with a grimace.

Hermione looked around before returning her attention to this man. This was the first time that she was alone with the man and he hadn't even introduced himself. "So...you are, Dolohov?" Hermione asked timidly, unsure of how to ask your fiance what his name was.

As if noticing her wide, nervous eyes, Dolohov felt like a terrible man, realizing that he'd taken her from the only home she'd known here and then didn't even tell her his own name! "Yes, err, Antonin, to you I suppose." He said. Of course she would call him Antonin, she would be his wife.

He walked over to the cabinet and poured them both a generous amount of firewhiskey he had squirreled away for a situation that called for it. He supposed impending nuptials definitely called for it. He watched as she sniffed at the amber liquid, and he was immediately annoyed that she should not drink what he'd offered her.

"Drink!" He commanded sternly, only to feel a bit awful when she took too big of a gulp and began to sputter and cough.

Annoyed with himself, he sat down across from her at the table. "Why did you join the program if you don't want a husband?" He found himself asking, without thinking. She obviously didn't want anyone to choose her, but all the things she'd done to make herself unnoticeable were what made her stand out to him.

"I didn't _join_ the program." Hermione said sharply. "I'm a mudblood remember? I didn't have a choice." She took another drink, much smaller this time, and stared at the table, before revealing her scheme. "You know if you make it a year without being picked, you get to keep the dowry?"

Antonin stared at the top of her head, though she wouldn't meet his eyes. "How much did you have left?" He asked. He was surprised that this girl knew all the ins and outs of the law.

"Five months. Give or take." Hermione said, before finally meeting his dark eyes. "What about you? Everyone seemed surprised that _you_ were getting married. Why did you change your mind?"

"It's true, I didn't want to get married." He said with a sigh, pushing some of his hair out of his face. "But, it was made known to me that as a member of high standing with the Death Eaters, it was important for me to make a good example."

Hermione scowled at him. "Well that's just stupid. Just what is _he_ hoping to get out of this program? A country of unhappy Death Eaters and women?" She demanded, cursing the existence of King Voldemort internally. It wouldn't do very well to insult the King in front of one of his Death Eaters, future husband or not.

Antonin chuckled at her words. She was fiery and opinionated, he would give her that. Even if they didn't get on, he was sure their marriage would be far from boring. "Something like that. No, I think they are trying to lure more men here, with the promise of land and fine wives."

He found that he couldn't really hate her, because she was just as much an unwanted victim in this scheme as he was. She didn't want to get married to anyone either, but her stubbornness at the barracks had forced his hand. He knew that was a silly reason to choose a bride, but once she pushed back, he knew that she was the one for him.

It didn't hurt that she was rather pretty, he thought, looking at her face in the dim light of his cabin. She had brown hair that was rather curly, but still attractive. Similarly, she had bright brown eyes that glimmered with emotion. Her dainty face was complemented by tiny, pert nose, and soft looking pink lips.

Shaking his head and clearing his throat, Antonin focused his attention on the fire in the background. It was always colder here in Canada, and summer seemed to be over before it started. "Listen...we give this a try, and if we don't get on after a year, I will dissolve the marriage."

Hermione whet her lips. It was a nice offer, but where would it leave her? "And my dowry?" She asked, hating the greedy way that that sounded.

"And I will return you the dowry. I have no need for it anyways." He said with a huff. Even if he didn't make a considerable salary working with the Death Eaters, his mother had brought a considerable fortune over from Russia.

She smiled brightly at him, offering him her hand over the table. "That sounds fair. Deal!" She shook his hand enthusiastically, and Antonin tried not to dwell on how the smile transformed her face.

After their truce was established, they spent the rest of the evening getting to know one another a bit better. It was the most the Antonin had talked in many years, but it was easy for him to open up to her. He told her mostly about his time attending Hogwarts and what it was like afterwards, the time when the Death Eaters were just a rebel group. He didn't try to scare her with the details, though he probably should. He was not a nice man. Hermione seemed the most intrigued by his Hogwarts stories.

In turn, she revealed to him that Umbridge had come to her house with the promise of Hogwarts, only to take her to the Merope Gaunt Home. Antonin had never been by the home, but he'd seen the girls who'd come out of it. Some did well and others…He wondered what would have happened to Hermione if she had been aged out and given to a pureblood family. She seemed a bit too strong willed to do well.

Also, he did feel bad for her that she was forced into the home. It was wrong of that Umbridge woman to promise Hogwarts and then take her away from her family. He knew Umbridge from the occasional party at the palace, and knew that she was always fawning over the King.

Before long, this new person in his life began dozing off at the table. Clearly it had been a trying day for her, so he decided to show her to the bed. The area where he slept was lofted, so he showed her to the ladder, and climbed up after her, ready to catch her in case she fell.

In the loft, he had a bookshelves, bed side table, closet for clothing and a comfortable bed. Canada hadn't afforded many comforts, but Antonin hadn't been able to give up a comfortable bed. He pulled her trunk from his pocket and resized it to its usual size, setting it to the side of the loft.

When he turned back to face her, she was staring at the bed in some kind of mute horror, her face paler than usual as she went through horrible scenarios only a virgin could conjure. Hearing his footsteps, she turned to face him, nervous look on her face, clearly afraid of whatever he might _expect_ of her.

Wanting to give her some space, he turned to his closet to pull out pajamas for the evening. "Get changed, and then we can talk." He said gruffly. He dressed in more than what he would usually wear, annoyed that he would likely be hot that night, but wanting to make sure she didn't bolt. He kept his eyes firmly on the wood of the wall in front of him, so that he wouldn't get an accidental glimpse of her, a nicety he wasn't sure what compelled him to do. When he was done, to be safe, he cast a locking charm on the front door.

Turning back around, Hermione was sitting on the edge of the bed in some white shift dress, practically shaking in anticipation of whatever fate would befall her. He sat next to her, amused at the way her feet didn't even touch the floor. "I won't force you to do anything you don't want." He said quietly.

Her face snapped to his, clearly surprised, and a bit disbelieving of his words.

"However…" He said reluctantly, knowing what perverted bastards were in the Death Eaters, he had to tell her the truth. "Because I confirmed your virginity at the barracks today, in front of so many witnesses, we will be expected to produce bed sheets after our wedding, in three days time."

"Why can't we just...cut my hand?" Hermione asked, a desperate whine in her voice.

Antonin almost wanted to roll his eyes. "There are spells, Hermione, to confirm the source." How was it possible that she was so naive when it came to magic?

He hated to see that she was on the verge of tears, but quickly realized that she was spitting angry. "Well, why did you even confirm my virginity, then?" She asked, wanting to shove him away from her body.

"Because you told me you weren't one." Antonin said, standing from the bed and pacing back and forth in front of her, barely controlling his own ire. "If you hadn't baited me I wouldn't have done it!" Why did she have to be so difficult?

"Well, why couldn't you just leave me alone?" Hermione demanded, looking like a spitting cat. "You know I didn't want to be picked, so why did you have to pick me?"

Antonin didn't have a good answer for why he'd picked her. Probably foolishly, because he relished a challenge. If she hadn't been trying to make herself as unnoticeable as possible, if she hadn't argued with him at the first chance. If she hadn't done everything in her power to be as different from those other simpering fools, he might have passed her by. "It doesn't matter now. There is no undoing it. So get your head together before the wedding." He commanded. "And get into bed!"

Hermione sniffled a bit before standing and peeling back the covers of the bed, and crawling under them, turning her back to him. Antonin got in on his own side and turned out the oil lamp, trying block out the sound of her tears in the dark night.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, favorited or followed after last chapter! You all are so awesome! I am so glad that you are loving this so far, as its been really fun to write and I was really happy to begin posting.

Here is chapter four, please let me know what you thought! And be on the lookout for chapter five soon!

* * *

Hermione thought she barely slept a wink through the night, the whole time feeling sorry for herself being stuck with such a horrid man. He seemed to switch between emotions and she didn't think it was right that he should grouse at her for something which wasn't her fault. Sure, it was...kind of him not to take any liberties with her before the wedding, and to warn her that it would need to take place in three days time, but that didn't mean that…

Well yes, she had been lying, baiting him even, when she said that she was not a virgin. She hadn't expected him to call her bluff or for there to be any repercussions of his spell. Hermione wasn't naive to what happened on a woman's wedding night and she knew that those in the monarchy might produce sheets to the King. But surely, that didn't apply to her...she was just a lowly mudblood!

Mostly, she was just upset that he was angry with _her_ , laying all of the blame at _her_ feet, as if she had asked for any of this to happen. It was clear that he didn't want to get married either, and during their initial conversation at the table, Hermione thought that she might actually be able to get along with him, but then he'd made her so mad!

He'd left early in the morning, with the sun barely peeking up over the horizon and left without saying anything to Hermione. She laid in bed for a while longer, enjoying the residual warmth, before she actually got up for the day, putting on the most practical of all her robes.

Unsure of just where Antonin had gotten off too, Hermione decided to make herself a spot of breakfast, because he obviously wasn't going to be making her anything while he hid from her. In the kitchen, she opened drawers and cabinets alike, making a note of where everything seemed to be located.

Putting a pan on the stove top, Hermione found some eggs on the counter and decided to make herself one. It had been a while since she'd reviewed cooking spells, but she was able to make something that passed as breakfast, even if it wasn't the best tasting thing.

After seeing to herself, she decided to look around the rest of the cabin. The cabin was mainly one room, with the lofted bedroom, though there were little closets tucked away here and there, as well as a bathroom. Hermione was glad that it was inside and she wouldn't have to be using an outhouse like at the barracks.

The living area was dominated by a massive fireplace, flanked by two bookshelves absolutely stuffed to the brim with books. The sight of them thawed Hermione's heart, wondering what kind of man Antonin must be to bring all these with him to the colony, when surely his space had been limited.

Deciding to dust the bookshelves - she would need a proper alibi after all - she set about examining all the books that he had in his possession. They covered a wide range of subject matter, from arithmancy to potions, and were written in Russian and English alike. Hermione was absolutely amazed, seeing all sorts of books that she hadn't been allowed to read when she was in England. She wondered if Antonin would let her read the books, if she asked politely. Maybe he didn't know that mudbloods weren't to learn about certain things.

She picked out several books that she thought she might like to read if permitted to, though she wasn't going to hold her breath. She noticed one called First Year Book of Spells and her heart thudded in her chest, thinking this must be one of the basic books that new students at Hogwarts were taught from.

Biting her lip, she thought about opening it, even just for a peek, before she thought better of it and left it there. The bookshelves were completely dust free at this point and she should move on to something else to distract her. She shouldn't tempt herself so.

Climbing her way back up to the loft, she opened up her trunk and began digging out all of the linens that she had created for her new household. Aside from the bookshelves, Antonin's home was really rather sparse, with just a few places to sit and a lumpy looking couch. She changed the sheets on the bed, determined to ask Antonin where to wash the dirty ones when he returned home.

After that, she returned to the first floor and smoothed out a tablecloth on the kitchen table, and put away little matching napkins. Already, the cabin looked much brighter, with her colorful embroidery standing out. She even hung a quilt over the lumpy couch.

With the household in better order, Hermione found herself a bit of jerky for lunch, thinking it wasn't entirely enough. It only fueled her anger at Antonin. Just who did he think he was, leaving her alone all day, without telling her where any food was? Was he intending to starve her to death?

Hermione, having nothing else to do, decided to venture out into the land surrounding the cabin. She'd barely seen it the night before and it seemed quite remote. The sunlight on her face felt wonderful and it was good to get out into the fresh air.

The plot of land was very picturesque, Hermione thought, reminding her of some little hamlet or French village, with immense spans of green every way you looked. The house was built on the edge of a pine forest, and it seemed a portion of it had been cleared. Staring out into the dense trees, Hermione got the feeling that there was someone else...something else out there, watching her.

Deciding that it was likely just some wild animal, or her fear of being alone, Hermione shook her head and walked away from the forest. On the side of the house, there was a little vegetable garden, marked with wooden plaques saying what was growing. Hermione smirked at the dirt. It wasn't doing very well, and she bent over to pull some of the weeds out.

She would have to ask Antonin for a book on gardening if she was ever going to get this up and in working order. It would certainly be nice to have some fresh vegetables. Finding a tomato plant, she pulled off the one ripe cherry tomato that the rabbits or the deer hadn't gotten to and popped it into her mouth, moaning at the taste. It had been so long since she'd had any fresh fruit or vegetables. Everything they kept at the barracks was preserved.

Around to the back of the house, Hermione could hear a little stream, but she didn't want to go looking for it all on her own. Perhaps Antonin would take her if she asked nicely enough. There was a little out building not far away that she wandered over to. Walking inside, Hermione was surprised to find two chickens, each one looking a little worse for wear.

Hermione smirked to herself, wondering if the chickens were Antonin's only friends. He had such a surly disposition that she wouldn't be surprised if they were the only living creatures that could put up with him. They certainly seemed world weary enough.

Smirking to herself, Hermione walked back into the house, deciding to try and make herself a little something edible for dinner. The sun was nearly setting and she was sure Antonin wasn't coming back at this point to make her anything.

* * *

When Antonin had woken up, he was quickly reminded that he had a girl in his bed, a girl who would be becoming his wife in just a few short days. He also remembered the way that he'd groused at her, and to be honest, he did feel a little bit badly.

She was obviously nervous. But why should he put her feelings before his own? Didn't she realize that he wasn't exactly jumping for joy over the nuptials either? He had never intended on getting married, and likely wouldn't have if he wasn't essentially being forced to.

After speaking with the girl the night before, he'd felt reasonably confident that they could get along well enough together and just go their separate ways after their year was up. But then she'd looked like a terrified little doe, desperate to bolt at his slightest movement when she saw the one bed, and it had just annoyed him so much.

He wasn't exactly keen on having a virgin. It had been many years, maybe more than ten, since he'd done it, and he always felt there was more pain and suffering and tears involved than the trouble was worth.

It was true that he'd snapped at her, but he'd be damned before he'd apologize to her for something out of his control. Instead, sensing that she was still asleep, Antonin stood and dressed for the day quietly, knowing that he needed to make some arrangements for his wedding anyway. It was a good enough excuse to get out of the house.

First he'd made his way back to the magistrates office, to confirm that Rosier would be able to bond them. Evan had been a few years older than Antonin when he'd started at Hogwarts and he'd been brought over to the colony to run the administration. Antonin knew that the older man had been annoyed to learn that that would include bonding new marriages. It certainly wasn't what he'd signed up for.

Rosier was easy enough to find. "Ah, Dolohov. I was wondering when you'd be darkening my door." The skeezy wizard said crossing his arms over his chest. "I heard you found a mudblood to marry."

Dolohov wanted to roll his eyes, but didn't say anything. "The wedding's scheduled in three days. Will you be available?" He asked instead of responding to the mudblood comment. It was true that when he was a younger man, Antonin had bought into the blood purity bullshit, but he'd since come to see it as just another way to get the masses to fall in line. Plus, he hated being reminded that he was anything less for being half-blood.

"Ay, I'll be there." Rosier said, still wanting more details on the girl. "You know, you can still change your mind and trade her in for a half-blood. Even if she's not in the condition you got her in." He showed off crooked, yellowing teeth in a disgusting smile. "Travers said she's a virgin."

"Travers should mind his own business." Antonin said fiercely. Being a private man, this was the exact kind of speculation that he was hoping to avoid.

"The way Travers said it, you made it everyone's business, performing the charm in front of everyone." Rosier responded, giving him a pointed look. "I so look forward to seeing your sheets."

Antonin stood abruptly, needing space between him and Rosier so he didn't do something he'd...well, not regret, but something that would get him in trouble. Just hearing the man's raucous laughter as he walked out of the office had him tightening his hand around his wand.

After he'd left Rosier, he tracked down Malfoy. A shrewd business man, Lucius had been tapped to run the finances of the colony, and that included taking care of the food. It was true that each Death Eater had his own way of procuring little bits of food, King Voldemort had provided that in the first few years of the colony the majority of the food needs would be taken care of by the crown.

Taken care of by the crown meant that Fenrir Greyback did the majority of the hunting, as he was going to kill animals anyway. It was just Antonin's luck that the uncouth creature was with Lucius when he asked about meal preparation for his wedding. "Deer." Greyback had told him. "Though I could find a cow or two for you if you let me lick between your bitch's legs. I heard she was a virgin."

Antonin settled on glaring at the men, disgusted with Greyback's behavior. "That won't be necessary." The Russian responded, hoping that Hermione never have to meet Greyback except for at the wedding.

Greyback groaned. "I don't understand this whole program. If the King wants a population boom, he should just let me have all the woman. I'd rut them until they were full of child." He pushed his dirty hair from his face, practically salivating at the idea of a harem of women.

Lucius hit the werewolf on the back of his head. "Don't be disgusting, Greyback. The King doesn't want any of your seed than necessary being passed on to our colony. If you are so eager go and pick _one_ wife for yourself."

Antonin was privately glad that Hermione was safely home at the cabin, and not one of the remaining girls for Greyback to choose from. "Do you have this in hand?" He asked pointedly, wanting to get away from the other two men as quickly as possible.

Lucius waved him away and Antonin was glad to leave them. He headed to the pub, the only place large enough to actually hold the wedding. He spoke to the bartender - Wilkes - for a few minutes making sure he knew about the wedding. Once all the arrangements were confirmed, he looked around the bar, quickly spotting his friend Reuben.

He slumped into the booth, pewter mug filled to the brim with foamy beer. "You look an age." Reuben said with a smile. "Your wife already nagging you then?"

Antonin smirked, but shook his head. "No, just dealing with the arrangements. I've just spoken with Malfoy and Greyback." He shuddered.

Yaxley felt sorry for the man, knowing that the pair could be quite the little deviants. "And your woman?" He pried a bit further.

He rubbed his hand over his face, wondering how much his friend would tease him if he told the truth. "Hermione." He said, a sardonic smile on his face. "We've had our first fight."

"What over?" Reuben asked, knowing that his friend could have quite a temper on him, so he was intrigued to meet the woman who could deal with his moods.

"Her virginity." Antonin told him, scowling when his friend burst into laughter.

Reuben wagged his eyebrows. "I am more than willing to bed your wife for you, if you aren't up for the job, Antonin."

Antonin sent a mild stinging hex at his friend, just enough to shut him up. It was odd, he already felt extremely jealous of the thought of Hermione being with his oldest friend. He was sure the girl would prefer Reuben in looks anyway. Antonin knew that more often than not he looked angry and brooding, not something he imagined young girls were pining for.

"Oi! I was only joking!" Yaxley said, rubbing the back of his hand, where the hex had struck him.

"It's not that I am not up for the job." Antonin said quietly. It was true that he found Hermione attractive and it wouldn't be a hardship to have sex after so many months with not a single woman between them. "It's just that she's not really jumping for a go."

Yaxley resisted the chance to laugh at his friend, knowing that it was a delicate situation he was in, and he likely didn't want to push the girl too much when their relationship was just starting out. "I'm sure she'll come around." He promised, knowing that Antonin had no trouble getting a woman back when they were still in England. "So when do I get to meet Mrs. Dolohov? Shall we go to your's now?"

It was Antonin's chance to laugh at his friend. "You'll meet her at the wedding like Rab. I don't want you to go scaring her off from me." Knowing that any conversation between Yaxley and his future wife would certainly contain good natured ribbing of himself, he wasn't willing to expose her to him any time earlier than necessary.

Finishing his beer, Antonin stood from the table. "In any case, I should probably get back and make sure she hasn't starved." He gave Yaxley a wave goodbye, leaving his friend sputtering behind him.

"Don't tell me you actually left her alone without food?" Reuben called after his friend's retreating form. Antonin chuckled to himself, feeling a bit bad, but he was sure Hermione was able to scrounge up something to sustain herself. Right?

* * *

When Antonin finally walked into the main room of his house, he was surprised to see how many changes the girl had already made in just a day. His couch had a quilt for Merlin's sake! The place seemed to be sparkling clean, and a cheerful fire crackled away in the fireplace. His dining room table had a bleeding tablecloth on it, with little scenes embroidered on the edges.

He was speechless.

"You _cannot_ do this to me again." Hermione said firmly from her place at the table, currently eating what appeared to be venison stew. It smelled delicious.

Antonin looked at her a bit stupidly. "Do what?" He asked, closing the door behind him.

"Leave me alone all day, not telling me where you were going or when you'd be back for starters." Hermione said, glaring at him, but determined not to fight again. Antonin's mind was reminded of Yaxley's nagging comment. "But mostly, I am annoyed that you didn't tell me anything about food!"

"Is there enough for me?" He asked, thinking that the heavenly smelling meal was just what he needed to cut through the slight drunkenness of his mind. She shrugged towards the stove top and Antonin ladled himself a bowl, before sitting across from her at the table.

The first bite confirmed that it tasted as good as it smelled. He groaned at the flavor. "It's good." He complimented her. Seeing her offer a small, self-satisfied smile, he decided to try again. "It looks like you got a lot of work done today. The cabin is spotless."

Hermione seemed happy with his praise, but not as happy as about the cooking. He wondered if she expected that he just wanted her to cook and clean for him everyday. That wouldn't be very fulfilling, and he would have to see if she had any other hobbies. "I'm sorry." He said quietly, feeling bad for leaving her to her own devices all day.

This time she gave him a shy nod. "What...what did you do today?" She asked, seeming to make an effort to have a real relationship with him. They were going to be living together for a whole year after all.

"Sorted arrangements for the wedding." He said, unable to keep eye contact with her. Instead, he kept his eyes firmly on his spoon. "Do you have everything…?" He hadn't even thought to see if she needed a dress or any other womanly goods.

"I have a dress." Hermione said, saddened that the conversation seemed to wither in between them, leaving an uncomfortable silence. "Well, I think I will just head to bed then." Hermione said after a minute of silence.

When she made her way up the ladder, he spoke so quietly that he wasn't sure she'd hear him. "Thank you."

Seeing her pause, he knew that she had.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who favorited, followed or reviewed after last chapter! Over 100 followers! Wow - thank you all so much! If you are interested, you can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks and the like, story updates, etc. This chapter is the wedding + night, but I don't think it is too salacious. Just a head's up. I tried to keep clothing descriptions close to the times, but I am not a historian, so I am sure I made some mistakes.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter five and be on the lookout for chapter six soon!

* * *

Almost in the blink of an eye, three days quickly passed and before long it was time for Hermione's wedding. She and Antonin had spent the previous days mostly avoiding one another. He would leave almost all day long, without telling Hermione what kind of work he was doing, though always telling her when he'd be back. After their first argument, he had showed her where the food was around the kitchen, and some other basics of the cabin.

The pair of them seemed to be avoiding discussing the event that they knew would be occuring, seeing as neither one of them was really thrilled that the event would be taking place. But then, time had slipped by and they were no longer able to avoid the unavoidable.

They'd woken up at about the same time. Hermione watched as Antonin rubbed his hand across his face, tired. "Do you have...bedding?" He asked her, a sad look on his face.

Hermione blushed brightly, thinking of the purpose of the bedding, bedding that would be showed to others to prove her virginity. Of course, Umbridge had thought of this kind of humiliation and ensured Hermione was well prepared, sending along luxurious white sheets. "Yes." She said, quietly as a mouse.

"Well, it might be prudent to change the linens now." Antonin said, standing from the bed. "I will take you to the hall to prepare yourself, but then we won't be back here, until...it's all over." He said.

Rummaging in her chest, she was surprised when Antonin began pulling off the current bedding, surprised that he was willing to help her at all. Together, they remade the bed, working in sync to prepare the room for their return. After it was done, looking quite welcoming, if Hermione was honest, she looked at her fiance. "Shall I...bathe here?"

"No, there will be a room at the hall." Antonin said. "Gather your things and meet me in the kitchen." Hermione pulled her petticoat and dress from the chest, as well as a tight corset that Umbridge had insisted she bring with, even though it would be nearly impossible to get on herself.

After a tense breakfast, Antonin and Hermione walked out into the little clearing, before he apparated them away. Hermione was more used to the jarring motion, but even with his warning, it was still difficult to regain her bearrings.

It was the second time Hermione had seen the little village that had popped up in the Death Eater colony, and she was given far more time to look around this time. It was more developed than she would have expected, seeing as they hadn't even been there for five years yet. There was a main street, with all sorts of wooden businesses, though she understood that the colony currently functioned more like a commune.

Antonin walked them purposefully to what he called the Hall, but Hermione quickly figured out was a tavern. After he said hello to the man behind the bar, Antonin took Hermione to the second story where there were some rooms. Hermione figured they were usually reserved for new members of the colony, but she would be using one to get ready today.

She was excited to see a tub of steaming hot water waiting for her, and she set her bundle of clothes onto the bed. Antonin cleared his throat. "Get yourself ready here. I will come get you before the ceremony is to start. Don't answer the door for anyone but me." He scolded.

Hermione didn't need to be told twice. Once the man left the room, Hermione quickly stripped down and got into the hot water, letting it relax her. She didn't feel very relaxed. The day wasn't going any way that she expected that it would. She wasn't the kind of girl who had planned out her wedding in meticulous detail, and she hadn't engaged in any of the chatter with the other girls at the barracks, but she certainly hadn't planned on getting married in a tavern.

When the water had gone cold, she toweled herself dry and began putting on her underclothes. The petticoats were easy enough to step into, but the corset did take significant twisting and even a little magic to get closed on her own.

She used her limited magic to dry her hair, hoping that it was behaving somewhat reasonably today, before experimenting with the few cosmetic charms that she knew to make her cheeks rosy pink and her brown eyes appear kohl smudged in the small, dirty mirror.

With nothing else to occupy her time, Hermione decided to put on her dress. With the dress on, Hermione gasped. Really, she had to hand it to Penelope, because the dress fit her like a glove. The tight sleeves covered her all the way to the wrists, while the low neck that was currently fashionable in England showed off her decolletage. Her waist looked tiny and she could appreciate the affect of the corset. The full skirts were a bit cumbersome to move around in, but the overall look was quite stunning.

At least she knew that she looked beautiful on her wedding day.

Before she knew it, Antonin was pounding on the door, telling her it was time for the bonding. Hermione felt her stomach a pit of butterflies trying to get free. She'd never witnessed a bonding before and she didn't really know what to expect. Opening the door, she smiled shyly at Antonin, trying to distract herself from what was about to happen.

He looked quite dapper, Hermione thought, wearing trousers tucked into tall brown boots, and a shirt of touchably soft looking flannel in dark navy. It was obvious that he'd seen to his wavy hair, and he appeared freshly shaven. It was good to know that he had put similar effort into the ceremony as she had.

When she met his dark eyes, it seemed that he was just as taken with her appearance as he was. "You look lovely." He whispered into her ear while he led her down the stairs to the main room of the pub. The intimate whisper above the din of the gathered crowd had a heat pooling in Hermione's belly.

They made their way to the main room, Antonin guiding her by placing his hand on her lower back, through the crowd of assembled Death Eaters. Hermione was shocked by how many there were, a few accompanied by wives.

They stopped in front of an older man with yellowing teeth and a lascivious smile that made Hermione's skin crawl. She hated the way his eyes seemed to trace her body, and judging by the tense man next to her, her future husband didn't care for it either. "So here is your blushing bride, Dolohov. Do you also have witnesses?"

Dolohov nodded, before calling to a blond man not far from where they were standing. "Yaxley! Get Rab, we are going to start." Hermione watched as the blond man retreived the man who had selected Luna walk over. She tried to remember his name...Lestrange?

Hermione was surprised when the rest of the assembled group didn't stop to watch the ceremony. In the end, it was rather anti-climactic. The older man - Rosier, she gathered - waved his wand over their hands and they made a few vows to one another, before exchanging silver rings, provided by the man called Yaxley.

Staring at the band of silver that seemed so wide on her finger, Hermione felt the rest of the room fade away for a moment. This was it, she was married. She had ceased to be Hermione Granger and was reimagined as Hermione Dolohov. Married to a man that she barely knew and who always seemed to get under her skin.

A cheer went through the hall, breaking Hermione from her reverie. The ceremony was over, and now, she gathered, everyone would be fed. Yaxley took a moment to introduce himself to her. "Hello, Hermione." He said with a devious smile on his face, grabbing her hand to kiss the back of it. "I am Reuben Yaxley, one of Antonin's oldest friends." He said with a smooth voice.

Hermione gave him a shy smile, sensing that there was more than meets the eye going on. "Pleased to meet you."

The other man - Rabastan Lestrange - then moved to introduce himself. "Hermione, I am Rabastan Lestrange." He also gave her hand a kiss. Over his head, she noticed Antonin looking quite displeased to have his friends' lips on her body. That amused her. Was he jealous? They weren't even a love match!

"I know who you are. You took my friend, Luna." She told him, perhaps more sharply than she should have, but she was still annoyed that her only friend was taken from her grasp by this man.

He also looked affronted by her pronouncement, not expecting her to have claws. "I did _not_ take Luna. She chose to come with me." He said, before waving someone over.

" _Please_." Hermione said, annoyed. "As if we witches have any say."

Before she could argue any more, a blonde figure ran up to her, wrapping Hermione in a tight hug. "Hermione! You look so gorgeous." Her effervescent voice was instantly recognizable and Hermione melted into the embrace.

"Luna! Oh, how I missed you." Hermione whispered into her ear. It was so wonderful to be reunited with someone she actually knew. It made her feel a bit grounded for the first time since Antonin had taken her home.

"I am sorry your plan didn't work out Hermione." Luna said, referencing her plan to keep the dowry for herself. "But I think that you will take to married life. I am more happy than I thought I could be." Hermione bristled, thinking that she wouldn't actually take to married life, but not wanting to upset her friend.

"Oh look!" Rabastan said, elbowing Antonin in the side. "Your wife and my wife are friends." He teased.

Before Antonin could respond, the cruel looking blond man approached them with a sly smile. "Ah, Antonin. There you are. And this is your mudblood." He looked down at Hermione disdainfully. "I guess congratulations are in order, however dubious a choice you've made. The dowry will be transferred to your account in a week's time."

Hermione watched as her husband's jaw set. Clearly he did not like the cruel looking man. "Thank you, Malfoy." He said, his accent thick as he tried to control his anger.

Hermione's attention was quickly pulled from the two posturing men, when she caught a glimpse of red hair behind the man called Malfoy. "Ginny? Is that you?" Hermione asked timidly. Of course, that is what she knew the blond man from.

Ginny nodded. "Hermione! Never thought I would be attending your wedding." The younger girl said with a grin, stepping out from behind her husband. Hermione couldn't contain her gasp of surprise at her friend's incredibly rounded belly.

"Wow, you're...having a baby." Hermione said, unsure of how she should feel. Perhaps Ginny was quite excited, but it seemed so soon. Hermione didn't think she would feel very happy having a baby so soon after getting married, but she supposed one couldn't really help those kind of things.

"Yes!" Ginny said brightly. "About three more months until the little one arrives." She patted her hand on her stomach. Clearly, motherhood suited her.

The blond man's attention was back on his wife, noticing her chatting away from Hermione. "Come, Ginerva. Let's find our seats for the feast." He didn't even let the two girls say goodbye to one another, though Ginny called over her shoulder that they would catch up soon.

Antonin still seemed to be upset and kept silent, but helped Hermione along to their table, walking between his friends. The food was quite good, Hermione thought, but she was mostly distracted by Antonin's friends. They were both quite boisterous and unlike the stoic man that she had married, but they were certainly fun to be around.

After much food and drinking, the floor was cleared for dancing. She danced with Reuben and Rabastan several times, and other random Death Eaters who thought the prospect of touching a woman outweighed the fact that she was muggleborn.

Antonin seemed to relax as the night went on, and took Hermione for several turns around the dance floor, pressing himself closer to her with each dance. She couldn't help but feel the heat rolling off him. Burying her face into his chest, she was completely surrounded by his scent.

This certainly wasn't the marriage that she was expecting, but she was glad that the ceremony was low frill and simple. It would only hurt more if they pretended it was something more than it was. Seeing Antonin with other people gave her hope that things wouldn't be totally awful.

* * *

Party goers had begun to file out of the tavern towards home when Rabastan and Reuben approached the newly wed couple. Each man standing on either side of them, they grabbed whichever arm was closest to them and side along apparated them away. Hermione took a few deep breaths after arriving in the cool night air in front of their cabin, the beer she drank making her feel more dizzy than usual.

"Alright - honeymoon time, lovebirds." Yaxley said, smoothing out Antonin's shirt, in a farce of making him look presentable.

"We don't want to see hide or tail of either of you tomorrow." Rabastan said pointedly, looking to Antonin.

Hermione stood there awkwardly, realizing what was about to happen next. It unnerved her that these two men could speak of it so casually. She turned to face her husband, and could see his solemn face even in the darkness.

"Not that we ever see Hermione." Reuben commanded. "Bring her around more, Antonin. She's delightful and I don't think I've seen you smile as much as when you are in her presence." Hermione scrunched her nose. Was Yaxley suggesting that she made Antonin happy?

"Enough chit-chat." Rabastan commanded, opening the front door for them. "In you go." Antonin tentatively held out his hand for Hermione, and she took it, surprised by how much smaller her hand seemed in his. They walked in the darkness of the cabin, shutting the door behind them.

A wave of his wand had a fire bursting to life, giving light to the great room. He cleared his throat, all traces of joviality erased now that they were alone. "Would you care for a firewhiskey?" He asked, his voice low and rough.

Hermione wrapped her arms around her body before shaking her head. "I'd rather not put this off longer than necessary." Skirting around the issue was only going to make her more nervous. As it was, the beer she'd drank made her feel warm and a bit more daring than usual. She didn't want to drink more and become not her usual self.

Antonin shrugged, before pouring himself a bit with a pained look on his face. He raised the glass in a mock salute to her before downing the amber colored liquid.

She scowled, watching him, suddenly feeling incredibly self concious. "What? Is the thought of bedding a mudblood so horribly repulsive to you, you'd have to be drunk to do it? Am I so unappealing to you?" She couldn't believe all of this was spilling out of her mouth, that she was sharing so much of her insecurity with him.

To her annoyance, he chuckled a bit. "No, no." He left the glass on the table and closed the gap between them before pressing his lips against hers in a tender caress, the first intimate contact that they'd had so far. She felt herself relaxing against him. "I may be a Death Eater, but I find forcing a yourself on a woman to be particularly distasteful. I know this isn't what you wanted."

Hermione was touched by how thoughtful it seemed. It was true that she wasn't jumping for a go, but she wasn't stupid either. It was something that needed to happen and it was something that women had been dealing with for centuries. "I won't...resist you." She said, blushing at how awful that sounded.

He seemed to understand the message she was attempting to convey, though, and gave her a genuine smile. "Go on, then. Up the stairs you go." Antonin wasn't sure why, but he felt so much more at ease with her now.

She had a difficult time getting up the ladder in her long dress, but with Antonin right behind her, she was confident she was safe. Once she reached the top, she sat on the edge of the bed, removing her boots, while her husband did the same. When she was done, she sat there, unsure of what to do next, while he began unbuttoning his shirt, revealing tan skin to her hungry eyes.

Hearing her breath quicken, Antonin turned to face his blushing bride. "Undress." He commanded, thinking that she might prefer to be in control in this one interaction.

With her back turned to him, he watched as she wrangled herself out of a dress that had been truly lovely on her, leaving the fabric on the wooden floor, until she stood in just corset and petticoat. She fumbled with the clasps on the front of the corset, but soon the milky white expanse of her back was laid bare to him.

At first glance, Hermione was not a gorgeous knockout beauty, but if you looked at her, you could quickly see that she was quite pretty. Antonin couldn't deny that he found her wild hair and brown eyes enchanting. Now that she was bare to his eyes, he could see that she was well proportioned for someone of her tiny stature, with slim waist and softly rounded hips.

Her hands were shaking while she worked with the tie of her petticoats and before long, that dropped to the floor as well. Antonin felt all the blood in his body rush to his cock, desire coursing through his veins, desire for her. She stepped out of the fabric, but still didn't turn to face him.

Closing the distance between them, he placed his hands on her shoulders, softly turning her to face him. Her eyes were tightly closed, but her mouth was open and panting. With one hand curling into her hair, he positioned her head in an angle favorable for a kiss, before dipping his head to meet her.

Hermione's petal soft lips felt like heaven to him, and his heart raced when he felt her melt against him with no resistance. When she pressed her lips back against him, he couldn't stop the rumble of approval in his chest. She gasped, letting her lips open, granting him entrance. She met him tentatively, before he heard her own answering moan of excitement.

Antonin thought that he could stay like this, just kissing her for hours. Each brush, caress, tangle of her tongue against his made his head spin. He wished that they'd been given more time to process their relationship, but unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be. At least she seemed as eager as he was, if he had to judge by the hard points of her nipples pressed against his chest.

Walking her back towards the bed, he settled her back against the stark white sheets. She looked wild and enticing, brown hair curling around her body, and hooded eyes filled with desire. When he crawled across the bed towards her body, she welcomed him with open arms, cradling him between shaking legs.

A wave of his wand darkened the cabin, though their night was not over.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, favorited or followed after last chapter! Glad you liked Hermione's low key wedding. If you'd like you can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates, and answer questions. Oh! And huge shout out to canimal for helping me out with the Russian pet names!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter six and be on the lookout for chapter seven soon!

* * *

The morning after her wedding, Hermione woke up much later than usual. She first noticed that she was alone in the bed. She stretched out her legs and feet and the tips of her toes trying to push away the relaxed feeling that lingered in her limbs. The night before hadn't been at all what she had expected.

She'd been so nervous to bare her body completely to Antonin, but he'd silenced all of her worries with a kiss, her first real kiss. Hermione wasn't sure if it was the fuzziness of the alcohol in her veins or the excitement she felt that had her melting against him.

As things progressed, she'd been torn between nearly crippling shyness and overwhelming excitement at was about to happen. She couldn't deny that he'd made her heart beat faster, her breathing quicken, and an unusual heat throb between her legs, making her ache.

There was much more to the whole act than she was expecting. She'd gasped when he put his fingers and tongue to her breasts, but she couldn't deny the pulse of pleasure that it sent through her body. The feel of the stubble on his cheeks had teased her to the point of near madness.

When his fingers had danced along her center, she hadn't been able to hold back the moans that bubbled up from her throat. She was surprised by how slippery she'd become, and how easy it was for him to slide a digit inside her.

Hermione was glad that the light had been extinguished when he'd finally entered her himself, because she was sure she would have been too nervous if she'd seen what he had between his legs. It had felt bigger than she expected when it entered her. The feeling was not as terrible as she'd expected...just kind of pinched her, but she'd still had tiny tears form in her eyes at the intrusion.

But, after the initial unpleasantness had faded, and he'd begun that constant push and pull, Hermione had found it actually felt quite good. Just thinking of his scratchy chest hair against her body, his hot breath on her neck, the noises that had come from him, had her body throbbing in sensation again. It scared her that she thought she might rather like to try it again sometime.

Sitting up, Hermione decided that she'd already spent enough time for one day laying in bed and stood, wanting to dress for the day. When she moved, she was surprised to find soreness in her muscles and of course, a slight pain between her legs.

Turning to face the bed, she was momentarily shocked to see the pinkish stain against the stark white sheets. There could be no denying now that she was well and truly married. Sighing, she decided to change the sheets, and bring the ruined one to Antonin, because he would undoubtedly have to bring it to someone.

She made her way down the ladder, carefully holding the sheets in a bundle, before heading to the kitchen area. Antonin didn't have to ask what she was carrying, his eyes trained on the evidence of their consummation. She thought that she might detect a hint of pink on his cheeks. Was he embarrassed of her or was he embarrassed of what was required of them?

It turned out to be neither, as he stepped away from the table, she was surprised to see breakfast waiting for them. He had what appeared to be a mountain of scrambled eggs on his plate, while the second plate had more of a...hill of eggs, but still more than she could possibly eat. "I thought you might want breakfast."

Hermione was unexpectedly touched that he should cook for her, momentarily surprised that he should know how, before she remembered that he had been living here on his own for months at least. Surely, he'd had to see to his own breakfast during that time. "Thank you." She said meekly, before tucking in. They weren't the greatest, but she was rather hungry from all of the activity the day before.

They ate together in silence, still uncomfortable despite the fact that they'd shared an act of ultimate closeness the night before. When they were done, Hermione stood to clear the plates from the table, and walked over to the little sink, waving her hand over the dishes so that they would begin to clean.

She stood, watching soapy bubbles form on the surface of the plates, slowly cleaning until they were once again cleaned. With a lazy spin of her fingers, she dried them, before pulling them from the sink and putting them back in the cupboard.

When she turned around, she noticed Antonin staring at her with a confused look on his face. "Do you always use wandless magic to clean the dishes?" He asked, and Hermione felt a bit like a science experiment under his intense gaze.

She blushed, looking down at her feet. "I do all of my household charms without a wand." She admitted.

"Why don't you use your wand? Everything would be much faster, easier."

It was Hermione's turn to look confused. Surely he knew that with her blood status she wasn't allowed a wand? "I'm a mudblood. I haven't been permitted a wand." She bit her lower lip. "Minerva often told me that wands would be necessary to perform more complex magic, but we only ever learned simple household charms."

Hermione was surprised to see unbridled anger on his face, transforming his features into something a bit terrifying. "Who is this _Minerva?_ "

Hermione swallowed thickly, hoping she wasn't getting her former mentor in trouble. "Minerva McGonagall. She used to teach at Hogwarts." Biting her lower lip she continued. "She had petitioned for me to learn more, as I was something of a quick study, but Madame Umbridge would never permit it. Not even complex potions."

Dolohov felt his anger simmering under the surface. He couldn't believe that they weren't giving muggleborns wands any more. What was the point of them coming into wizarding society if their magic was going to be so stunted. Still, hearing that Hermione had been tutored by McGonagall had him relaxing a bit. He remembered her from when he was a boy.

"That is preposterous. Every witch should have a wand." He told her, looking at her nervous stature. "Especially a witch as gifted as you."

"Gifted?" She asked, confused.

"Surely, they told you?" He asked, incensed on behalf of his girl, who had been so mistreated by Voldemort's system. How could she not feel the power in her veins? "As soon as I met you, I could _feel_ your magical aura. That's not usual. It only happens to someone with exceptionally strong magic."

Hermione shrugged, feeling very exposed. No one had ever told her this before, and the most that she'd gotten was that she was a quick study. Hermione just assumed that was because she enjoyed learning so much.

"Merlin, it's why I _picked_ you." He revealed. He stood from the table and began to pace back and forth, his body filled with angry energy, anger that his wife had been so mistreated. "It's fine, we will just have to get you a wand now." Then she could begin properly channeling her magic.

"But...I'm a mudblood." She watched as he rankled at the word. When she first got in the wizarding world, she sensed that that had been a _bad_ word, but then it was so ubiquitous that she started using it as well. To see a Death Eater upset at it's use was surprising to say the least. "We aren't allowed a wand."

"You are my wife." He said, heat in his eyes as he turned to look at her. "You can have a wand. Any wife of mine will have a wand."He said it so vehemently, as though it was a personal affront to him that she didn't have one. But maybe it was a personal affront. After all, they were in this together now, weren't they.

"I'd love a wand." Hermione said quietly, the excitement bubbling up inside of her. It would be so wonderful to finally have that forbidden bit of magic firmly within her grasp. A shy smile graced her face as she thought of all the possibilities.

Antonin's face was transformed by a crooked grin, perhaps enchanted with her childlike eagerness. Once he assured that she was presentable to go out in public, he suggested they walk into the village. It was nearing autumn, and soon they wouldn't be able to enjoy the nature walk. Hermione had to take two or three steps just to keep up with Antonin's long strides, seeing as he was so much taller than she was.

"I can't make any promises. We have a limited number of extra wands here." He said, wanting to caution her that she might not be able to get hopes up too much.

"What do we do if none of the wands work for me?" She asked. She'd been so excited to try a wand, but what if none of them were right for her? Would she still be able to have one?

"We will buy a wand core then." Antonin said, his eyebrows scrunched together, saying it as though it was obvious, before remembering that she didn't really know how things were run in the colony. She asked more questions and made him talk more in the last week than he probably had in the last six months. "Then we can either find suitable wood here, or we will have to order some to arrive on the next shipment from England."

Hermione nodded, thinking that sounded reasonable. After all, it wasn't as though they could have an unlimited number of wands in the colony, not like back home. Wandlore sounded incredibly interesting to her. "How do we know if a wand is right for me?" She asked.

Antonin chuckled to himself, watching his wife bustle about with all the excitement of a first year off on their way to Hogwarts. "You ask a lot of questions, don't you?"

"Yes, I was always getting in trouble at the Merope Gaunt Home." Hermione said matter-of-factly. "For questioning authority." She said sharply. Clearly, it was something that still bothered her.

"The wand chooses the wizard, they say." From the look on her face, he could tell that this wasn't the answer that she wanted. "You will know if it is right, trust me."

Hermione wanted to ask him more about wands, but she could sense that his patience with her questions was leaving him. It was nice, she thought. Today was the first time that she'd felt _comfortable_ chatting with Antonin. They'd just been thrown together, and she'd often worried that they'd just constantly fighting, but perhaps he wasn't so bad. She sensed that there was a lot about him she didn't know.

By the time that they got to the tiny shop a few doors down from the records department, Hermione was in awe of the little colony. It was much further along than she would have guessed, but it still had a long way to go. Already, it was taking shape.

The wand repository had a very sad collection of wands, perhaps only eight in total, so she would be able to try them all. Antonin winced, remembering getting his wand from Ollivander, the man being able to sense the wand that would call to you. He was disappointed that Hermione wouldn't get the chance to experience that.

"Just try a spell. A simple one." He said, handing her a cherry wand, with unicorn hair core. A bored looking Avery, Jr. watched them with disinterest, knowing that he was lower in the food chain than Dolohov.

Hermione waved the wand, with eagerness in her eyes, only to completely deflate when nothing happened. She tried again, a look of concentration on her face when she attempted it. Still, nothing.

"It's alright. Try another one." This time he picked a hawthorn wand, pliable and long, with a unicorn hair core. She squared her shoulders and attempted the spell again, only to drop her hand, upset, when nothing was produced.

She looked up into his dark eyes, perhaps afraid that he was playing some kind of cruel trick on her. "Maybe I'm not meant to have a wand." Maybe everything that Umbridge had told her all of those years was true. She could even hear the other man in the room snickering.

"Avery!" Antonin snarled, quietly the young man. Hermione was surprised when his large hand cupped her cheek, his thumb removing the tears from her face. "Nonsense. Don't you trust me?" He asked.

Hermione wasn't sure if she _did_ trust him. After all, she didn't really know that much about him. He placed a different wand in her hand, this time poplar, unyielding, with a dragon heartstring core. Deciding that she would like to trust him, she tried another spell.

A blast tore out of the end of the wand, sending a table on the other side of the room up on it's end, and knocking Hermione back flat on her arse. "Oi!" The unknown Death Eater called, before straightening up the table.

Antonin was laughing well he helped her up. "See, I told you. Your magic was much too powerful for that wand, mishka." He handed her another wand to try again, with similar results, to Avery's growing annoyance.

To Hermione's immense disappointment, the remaining wands did not seem to cooperate with her, but she had gotten the best response from the wands with dragon heartstring, so Antonin asked avery to see the wand cores. It was a curious thing to see him study each and everyone carefully, before selecting one and leaving a few gold coins on the counter.

The dragon heartstring was curious to look at. It was reddish if you just looked at it, but if you held it up in the light it was kind of iridescent. "Have you ever seen a real dragon?" Hermione asked, while Antonin lead her from the store, back to their cabin.

She knew that she was pestering him with questions, but instead of annoyance, he just had a hint of a smile on his face. He spent the rest of the walk describing the time he'd come face to face with a Hungarian Horntail during a Care of Magical Creatures class.

* * *

They had spent the previous day making dinner together, another rich hearty soup and spend the evening with Antonin attempting to teach Hermione cards. Her face was so readable, though, that it was likely a useless endeavor for her. Still, it had been an enjoyable evening, until they had to return to bed.

The casual ease that they had curated that day vanished while they were stripping their clothing and getting into pajamas. Antonin couldn't deny that the evening before had been pleasurable on a base level, and he was sure that Hermione enjoyed it too, but he wasn't so heartless that he would push her into a sexual relationship that she didn't want.

No matter how desirable he found her. Now that he knew about all of her womanly delights, he wanted more of her. He wanted to see her body in the breaking sunlight and memorize her, kiss her until her lips were swollen and her cheeks flushed. Antonin had felt his body begin to respond to the fantasy and quickly got in bed, his back to Hermione.

When morning came, he needed to get out of the house for a bit, so he went into town to deliver her maiden sheets to Rosier. It was an experience that he certainly wanted to spare his wife, as it was likely to be embarrassing and humiliating. He wondered when he began to care so much for her comfort, but he was conscious that he wanted her to have as little upset as possible.

It wasn't until he he was walking back to the cabin that he noticed a thick vine spiraling around a large oak tree. Stopping, thinking that it was a rather odd stop, he placed the palm of his hand against the woody vine. Closing his eyes, he could feel that the vine was a conduit.

His fingers traced the rough wood, before finding a perfect piece. Vinewood was an extremely unusual wand wood, but it wasn't unheard of in Russia, especially in the Eastern tundras where trees didn't grow in abundance. He wasn't sure why, he just knew that it would be perfect for Hermione. It was as if it was calling for him.

Using his own wand, he sent a slicing spell at the wood, until he had a segment that would be perfect for Hermione. He returned home with a pep in his step.

His wife was sitting by the fireplace, reading a book that appeared to be on the Russian Goblin Treatises of 1265. He wondered if she had purposefully selected the dullest history book she could find, or if she truly enjoyed reading so much that it was actually keeping her attention. She was certainly engrossed enough that he didn't hear a peep from her when he sat at the table and took out a pocket knife to begin carving the wand.

Really, Antonin thought it was for the best. He didn't want to get her hopes up too much about the wand if this conduit didn't work for her. The next shipment from England wasn't set to arrive for two more months, so it would be much more bitter to have a wand snatched out of her grasp.

It felt nice to have this little project for her. This was probably the first time that he'd ever made anything with his own two hands for someone else and it was his first time trying to construct a wand. Of course, he'd repaired a fair number of wands in the past, and he was well versed in wand lore, but he'd never attempted it from scratch.

He hoped that it would be a successful endeavor. He wanted to see that unbridled joy on her face again.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited and followed after last chapter! I am so glad that y'all liked the part with the wand :) Antonin is very nice to try to help Hermione realize her powers as a witch! I hope that you enjoy this one as well. You can follow me on tumblr, nauticalparamour, where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know of chapter seven and be on the lookout for chapter eight soon!

* * *

When Antonin arrived at the bar, he immediately strode towards the table that Reuben was seated at, apparently well into his beer. He waved at the barkeep to bring one over for him before sliding into the seat across from Yaxley.

His friend leered at him. "Well, if it isn't the conquering hero." He wagged his dark blond eyebrows, making Antonin scowl. Reuben had always been one to appreciate women and even if Hermione was now married to Antonin, she certainly wasn't exempt. "You've only been married three days and already you are hiding from your wife."

Antonin felt his cheeks color, knowing that Reuben had rather hit the nail on the head. It wasn't that he was avoiding Hermione, it was just that he couldn't stand to be around her in the evening when she looked so beautiful, but it was clear that she didn't want anything more with him. An unease settled between them every night when it was time to turn in. "Can't a man enjoy a drink?" He countered.

"If you say so." Yaxley said, with a shrug. "Well, come on, details. How was she? She was much younger than I was expecting, but she certainly is pleasing to the eye." It was true. Reuben had thought that Rabastan was just lucky to have snagged such an ethereal beauty, but then Antonin had secured a good looking wife as well. It almost made him wish he had a reason to visit the filles.

The brooding man scowled at his friend. Hermione had been his for just about a week now, but he already felt intensely protective of her. He wouldn't have any other wizard sniffing about what was his. Normally, he would keep details of a sexual nature close to his chest, but it might be good to get the other man's opinion. "It was better than I expected. She was very upset when I first told her it would have to happen. I thought it would feel like forcing myself on her."

"But...it wasn't?" Reuben said, knowing that Antonin followed the same code that he did. They certainly were not moral men, and had done many horrible things in the service of King Voldemort, killing and torturing alike. But neither one of them would _ever_ rape a woman.

"No." Antonin said, taking a long drag from his glass. "It was better than expected. A little too much better."

Reuben began to laugh loudly, making Antonin scowl into his glass. "So you like your wife. I fail to see why that is a bad thing, Antonin. Hell, I would kill someone if I could find a single likable thing about _my_ wife."

"It's not that I liked it that's the problem." He said, unable to meet his friends eyes. "It's that I want more, but things are always so...uncomfortable whenever we are in the vicinity of the bed." It was difficult to admit this, especially when he'd previously had no trouble getting a woman back in England if he wanted.

He knew that he was a good enough looking man - tall, dark and handsome. Now that he was in the colonies, he knew that he had a certain rugged look and all the physical labor they had to do here had helped. He wasn't a perfumed lord like Malfoy, or even Rabastan.

"Well, then, you'll just have to convince her." Yaxley consoled, though he was clearly barely holding back his amusement. "Just take time to get to know her, and let her get to know you. Do nice things for her."

Antonin thought about the wand he'd begun working on. "Did you know that she wasn't ever allowed a wand? She said no muggleborns were." Antonin had had no idea the life that muggleborns were being forced into, but he didn't like what he was learning. He couldn't imagine forcing someone into the life that Hermione had lived.

"That's news to me." Yaxley said with a shrug.

"She has no idea how much magical power she has." Antonin said, feeling his ire rise to the surface. "All she's ever done is household spells. It's like they were trying to make her into a house elf." The very idea of it was distasteful to him.

Reuben shook his head. He couldn't imagine being a wizard without a wand. His wand almost felt like another appendage. Of course, he'd dabbled in wandless magic, but it was exceedingly difficult, and he doubted he could ever cast more complex spells that way. "Did you get her a wand?"

"Tried." His friend said with a shrug. "None of them were a good fit, but I got a wand core and I am fashioning a wand for her now." Reuben's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. Creating a wand was quite the endeavor. Antonin clearly wasn't lying about the girl. Wanting to get the conversation off of himself and Hermione, Antonin inquired after their other friend. "Just where is Rabastan this evening?"

That got Reuben laughing again. "Rabastan and the lovely Luna are out hunting this evening." He said, just waiting for Antonin to bite.

"Hunting for what?"

"Some kind of creature. I guess it only comes out on the eve of the New Moon. She called it a humdringer or a hinkler or something." He said, full on laughing. Antonin cracked a smile as well. Their friend's wife was certainly a bit different, but she was certainly entertaining and incredibly friendly. "Please promise me that you won't abandon me when your bride wants to go on night time hunts."

"I don't think that Hermione cares for hunting." He said truthfully, realizing that he didn't really know that much about his bride's life before the colony. Rabastan was so smitten with his new wife. Antonin wondered if he would ever feel the same way about his.

* * *

After that first night at the bar with Reuben, Antonin had returned every single night. It had some unexpected benefits, namely that Hermione would already be asleep when he returned home. Then she wouldn't be able to see his _very_ physical reaction to her laid out in nightwear, sleeping like an angel, with wild curls around her head, the barest hint of nipple visible through the sheer white fabric. What he wouldn't do to take her again.

So, each night after they ate dinner together, Hermione would read some book about herbology or mending or Russian history and he would quietly work on her wand unbeknownst to her. He'd asked about the Russian history books, and she'd told him with a bright blush on her cheeks that she just wanted to learn more about his mother country.

Once she would start to yawn, he would leave the cabin, putting up wards to keep her safe while he was away. He could tell that she was curious, and maybe even a little bit annoyed that he left every night, but she never said anything about it, and neither did he.

Reuben quickly caught on to what he was trying to do, namely avoid Hermione in their bed, but he didn't say anything about it in front of Rabastan, but merely inquired on how her gift was coming along.

To Antonin's surprise, the wand was actually coming together quite nicely. The vine wood seemed to be a near perfect conduit for the dragon heartstring he'd selected. It was as if the two materials were meant to be together. In fact, he had finished it up that very night, but he was waiting until the next morning to tell Hermione. He was sure that she would have thousands of questions and he wanted a fresh mind to answer her.

Rabastan had also been overly complimentary of Antonin's wife, causing his hackles to rise at the idea of either of his friends thinking of Hermione in a lustful way. Their good natured ribbing though quickly made him realize that they were just doing it to get a rise out of him. It was times like these when he wondered why he even bothered with friends.

Rabastan was constantly pestering him to bring Hermione with to the bar, and that he would bring Luna. Apparently they hadn't known each other very long, but the pair of them had been friends. Antonin could see some merit in Hermione getting to spend some time with another woman her age, but he wanted to expose her to Rab and Reuben as little as possible.

They knew too many embarrassing things about him.

So, after staying for one more pint than usual, Antonin decided it was probably time to make his way home. It was quickly becoming fall and the air was crisp, so he decided to walk home in order to clear his head. A fog was starting to roll in from the river, giving an eerie feel to the mostly empty path.

Antonin was no stranger to spending time out in nature, but being in the colony was something entirely different. They were well and truly alone out here. Sure, there were muggles a broom ride away, but there was no one else around for miles. It was an unsettling feeling, thinking about all of the creatures that would be out lurking in the woods. Hell, Antonin knew Greyback was probably out there now.

When he got home, he opened the door exceedingly quietly so as not to wake Hermione. There were still lonesome embers in the fireplace, but he was surprised to see a light still flickering up in the loft. Hopefully, Hermione had just fallen asleep with the light on. He crept up the ladder, annoyed that his heavy boots made quite so much noise.

Looking over the edge, he was shocked to find Hermione not only very awake, but seemingly struggling to hide something under the mattress. "Hermione." He said sternly. "What on Earth are you doing?"

She was frozen, clearly upset that she had been caught. Antonin's eyes narrowed. She seemed like she was feeling guilty about something. "Nothing. I just...heard you come in and worried it might be an intruder. I didn't want them to catch me unawares." The lie rolled off her tongue easily enough, but Antonin wasn't buying it.

"Don't lie to me, Hermione. What were you doing?" His mind supplied numerous scenarios in which she was already trying to get away from him, even though she'd promised him a year. It was true that he hadn't wanted a wife, but the thought of her leaving him was distasteful to him.

He walked over to where she was standing, watching her step from foot to foot, clearly nervous about whatever it was that she was trying to hide. "Stop trying to hide things from me." He said sternly. "Step aside." His ire was bubbling up inside of him, and he tried to remember to control himself around her. It wouldn't do to frighten her, and he knew that he could be physically intimidating.

Hermione stepped aside, tears in her eyes, while Antonin lifted the corner of the mattress, only to find a book hidden beneath it. Picking it up, he stared at the cover, hearing Hermione's sniffles behind him as she struggled not to cry. When he turned to face her, he could see that she was physically shaking with nerves.

"Standard Book of Spells Year One?" He asked, astonished. He hadn't touched this book in nearly twenty years. It was the basic book that you started off with at Hogwarts.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione cried, the tears finally breaking free from impossibly long lashes.

"Why would you be sorry?" He asked, extremely confused. He always let her read whatever books she wanted after dinner. Why would she think he would be upset with her for reading this one? She'd been so afraid to be caught, she tried to hide it.

Her words were broken up by great gulping gasps. "I know that mudbloods aren't supposed to read books like that. But I was too curious." Hermione revealed. "I know that it's forbidden, but I read it anyway."

Antonin felt all of his anger dissipate. "Reading these books isn't forbidden. Not even for muggleborns." The fact that he didn't use the term mudblood caught her eye, and she let him guide her to sit on the bed beside him. "Why did you think it was not allowed?"

She was beginning to calm a bit, only to wince at his question. "Umbridge had me beaten the only other time that I tried to read a book of spells. She said it was forbidden magic for mud-muggleborns." Out of her corner of her eye, she saw his hand tighten around the book until his knuckles were white.

Running his hand through his wavy hair, he sighed. "Look at me, Hermione." He commanded. His eyes were intense and serious. "You are my wife, Hermione, and you can read whatever book that you want to. You are welcome to any book from my library and I will never _beat_ you." He could only imagine what he would do if he ever came across Dolores Umbridge again. He couldn't believe that that horrid woman had deigned to hurt his precious wife.

"Any book?" Hermione asked, dumbstruck. He had _so many_ books that she had been itching to read.

"Yes, any book that you like. Don't you think I would have said something if it bothered me?" Antonin asked. "I see you reading every night."

"I only read books that didn't require a wand." Hermione explained meekly, with a small smile on her face.

"So, no more hiding things from me? Promise?" He asked, only to have his tiny wife launch herself into his arms, holding him tightly. Her tears wet his shirt and he could hear her thanking him multiple times and promises not to hide things from him in the future. He sighed into the embrace, returning it, thinking about how lovely she felt in his arms.

When she pulled away, she rewarded him with a bright smile. He pressed his lips to her forehead, though he would have liked to kiss her sweet lips. "Wait here. I have something for you." He stood from the bed and made his way down the little ladder, going to retrieve her wand.

She was eagerly awaiting for him when he brought it back up the stairs. He laid it reverently into her hands, and Hermione gasped. He watched as her fingers lovingly traced the intricate pattern of the vinewood. "Is this mine?" She asked softly.

"Yes, mishka." He told her affectionately. "Go on then, give it a wave." He instructed.

Her face was transformed by her concentration. She looked serious and determined, and maybe a little afraid that she might have some explosive results like in the shop. Pointing it at the pillows, she waved the wand and watched as their pillows fluffed themselves to perfect plumpness. She gasped, in awe of the magic she felt humming through her veins, the ease with which she could cast. "It worked!" She said eagerly.

"Excellent. Didn't this wand feel much better than any of the others?" He asked, hoping that it was perfect for her.

"Yes, it just felt _right_." She whispered. "I can sense the magic inside of me. There is so much."

He smiled. "Yes, I could always sense your magic. I am glad that you were able to open it up. You are a powerful witch, Hermione."

Hermione's heart was pounding, thinking of how sweet he had been to her. When she was first sent to the colony, she thought that her life was ruined. But after being with Antonin for just a few days, it was like a whole new world had been opened for her. "Where did you get it? The wand?"

"I made it." Antonin revealed, a slight blush on his cheeks.

Hearing that he'd done that for her touched her deeply. No one had ever done something so thoughtful for her. Catching herself by surprise, Hermione found herself lunging towards him and pressing her lips against his. He sat still, surprised, until finally to Hermione's immense relief, he returned the kiss, pressing against her tightly. She pulled back with a blush on her cheeks. She stared at her lap, wondering what had possessed her to do that. Of course, since their wedding night, she'd been curious about what it would be like to kiss Antonin again, but to just throw herself at him like that...

He cleared his throat. "Why don't you try one of the spells from the book?" He offered.

Hermione brightened at the idea, flipping the book open to a page. Reading over it again, she focused, waving her wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!" She watched in awe as one of the pillows began to hover, higher and higher.

Even Antonin was surprised that she had achieved her aim on the very first try. "Let's try the unlocking charm next, on your trunk." He suggested. A wave of his own wand, and her trunk was locked, only to have her attempt the spell.

To her dismay, this one did not come as easily, but Antonin was patient with her, correcting her pronunciation and wand movement. It didn't take long until she could perform the charm with ease. Then she talked him into practicing the severing and mending charms over and over again, until Antonin was so tired he could barely stay awake.

"Hermione, the book and the wand will still be here in the morning. We should go to sleep now." He didn't wait for her response, before standing and changing from his clothes into pants for sleeping, leaving his chest bare. He turned and saw her still pouting. "I will show you transfiguration tomorrow." He promised.

She considered it before nodding and laying her wand down on the bedside table, reverently. She pulled back the covers and nestled herself underneath them. He slide in bed next to her, before turning out the light.

They laid next to each other, listening to the other breathe, until he noticed that Hermione was slightly shivering, now that the fireplace had gone out. Smiling to himself, he pulled her to him, wrapping his arm around her to give her some warmth.

Hermione stiffened for a moment. Then she snuggled up next to him, her head resting on his chest, her arm laid over him, fingers toying idly with the sparse bit of chest hair she found. The feeling of her pressed against his body was sweeter than he imagined and he was quickly lulled to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! Ffnet was doing that weird thing where it wasn't showing reviews, so I am very sorry if I did not respond to your review at the time of this chapter coming out. I will try to do that soon! So glad that you are enjoying the relationship that is forming between Antonin and Hermione. Antonin will continue to be mad on Hermione's behalf and help her become the witch she's meant to be. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I sometimes post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter eight and be on the lookout for chapter nine soon!

* * *

The morning after Antonin had given Hermione her wand, he wanted nothing more than to just spend the morning cocooned in her warmth. They hadn't moved much in the night, aside from her throwing a leg over his, but it was comfortable.

Instead, a burning on his forearm caught his attention, making him hiss and wake the sleeping woman. "What is it?" She asked, still groggy. She watched as he grabbed the mark on his left forearm. It was something that she saw rarely, and was therefore desperately curious about, but she hadn't worked up the courage to ask him.

"I am being summoned." He told her, his voice thick with sleep. King Voldemort had all of his Death Eaters magically branded so that he might call them in an instant. The call could not stretch such a distance as the Atlantic Ocean, though, so the power to summon had been transferred to three: Lucius Malfoy, Evan Rosier, and Rodolphus Lestrange.

"Summoned?" She asked, groaning while he jostled her in his effort to get up.

"I will explain it to you later. Just, I have to go. Business for the King." He saw her pretty face transformed by annoyance, though her brown eyes were still closed. Wanting to take advantage of her openness now, he pressed a kiss on the top of her head. "You go back to sleep. It is much too early to get up yet."

Once he was outside in the early dawn light, he felt the pull of the mark and apparated to where it was calling him, only to reveal a burning building. Looking around, he saw practically everyone in the colony, wands out, trying to put the fire out. Getting his bearings, he realized that it was the tax collection building.

Using his wand, he quickly cast an aguamenti and began working to put the fire out. He spotted Reuben working diligently as well, but he didn't see Rabastan.

It took several hours to get rid of the blaze, which already had made Antonin suspicious. No one seemed to bothered by the fact that it took so long to put out a simple fire. It smacked of deliberate arson to him. Surely the fire was enchanted.

While they didn't collect physical galleons, sickles or knuts at this office, they did keep all sorts of ledgers about who owed what on whatever goods were shipped to the colony. Lucius Malfoy would then send reports back to England to make a transfer from their Gringotts vault to the crown.

It was rather convenient that the fire had completely destroyed all of the ledgers. Antonin wasn't blind to the fact that there was some unrest in the way that the colony was being managed. It was true that in some aspects they operated in a communal way. While the colony was just getting on its feet it was necessary. But they were beginning to use money again as well, though in some areas more than others.

Still he knew it rankled many that Lucius Malfoy had a house and a barn with livestock, while others were still living in the rooms above the tavern. Certain people were seen to first and other's had been left in the lurch.

Antonin hadn't waited for the rest of the group to help with his cabin, instead relying on the assistance of his two friends to help with the construction. It had been hard additional work, but still well worth it. He'd repaid them by assisting with their own dwellings.

Lucius Malfoy stared at the charred remains of the building and ran his hand over his face. "All those tax slips, gone." He said with a groan, obviously thinking about King Voldemort's eventual displeasure at having lost all this revenue. "It will be impossible to replace."

Antonin wanted to bring up the fact that this seemed planned, but no one else there seemed suspicious. Was it willful ignorance that things were not all perfect and rosy in the colony or just plain naivete? In any case, he didn't want to be the one to bring up the issue lest he be looked at as suspect.

When there was no reason to continue hanging about, he apparated back to the cabin, exhausted. He would need a rest after this. And time to think.

* * *

With her new wand, Hermione had flourished in her studies as the days passed by. She'd breezed through the first four years of Hogwarts schooling in a speed that impressed even Antonin. She was naturally gifted and very bright.

Being reminded of how she had been so stunted by Umbridge made him continually angry, so he promised himself that there would be no subject off limits for his wife. He spent most of his days helping the colony getting up and running, as did most Death Eaters. It made him feel like a pack mule or workhorse most days so coming home to Hermione was a delightful treat. He tried to help her with her learning as much as he could, and he always found her to be an apt and appreciative pupil.

She'd taken to transfiguration, enjoying changing the color of things around the house, or making the couch considerably less lumpy. She already had some basic knowledge of potions, and was making steady strides there, only to be held back by the lack of ingredients. He would have to ask Reuben about tutoring her, as his friend was much better than he was.

Apparently, she'd been able to study runes and arithmancy with Minerva as it did not require a wand, so she devoured the advanced books that he had on the shelves. He found it a bit cute when she would pout that some of the most interesting looking ones were written in Russian.

He had even promised to begin basic dueling with her. It was an area that she actually struggled in. She knew so many new spells, but none of them just came to her yet. They hadn't yet been ingrained, easy to pull from. He promised her it would get easier the longer she used the spells. She responded by hitting him with a tickling hex, sending him sprawling on the floor, laughing, until he begged for mercy. "Mishka, please, you must end the spell."

When she offered him her hand to help him back, he pulled her down on the ground with him, and repaid her by tickling her sides mercilessly until she laughed so hard tears came to her eyes. The ensuing awkward silence between them made him painfully aware of just how much he wanted her. She'd burrowed her way into his life and now he couldn't imagine it without her there. He found he didn't mind answering her questions anymore, loving the way that she would light up at the response. He spent his days looking forward to the evening when he could wrap her up in his arms.

Still, he never tried more than just a kiss on the forehead.

As no topic was off limits for Hermione, he wasn't surprised when she began reading books about the Dark Arts. Despite not growing up performing wand magic, she still sensed that Dark Magic was, well, dark, and that it was not something to be taken lightly. She was exceedingly practical about the matter.

The first thing she brought up was his Dark Mark. He had to admit that it was an ingenious bit of magic, but he didn't have all of the information on how it worked. It was a heavily guarded state secret. Still, she caught on to the concept of layering charms quite quickly.

She read about dark curses, jinxes and hexes, approaching them with the same mindset as charms and transfiguration. Something to learn, something to master. "I know that some of this has it's uses, but honestly, what is the purpose of an entrail expelling curse?" She asked him one evening. He'd been laying on the couch and she'd sat on the floor, her back leaning against the couch, feet stretched towards the fire.

"It's a gruesome death." He told her with a shrug. "Some people want the person that they are killing to go in an exceedingly slow and painful manner."

He could see her scrunch her nose in disgust. She was so sweet, she probably never thought about dueling in its practical sense. To settle scores and conquer.

Because reading seemed to be Hermione's favorite thing to do, Antonin was never surprised to come home and see her completely engrossed in a book. He wasn't even surprised to see her reading an in depth book about the three so called Unforgivable Curses. But what was unusual, when Antonin came home that day, was to see her staring at the pages, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Hermione?" He asked, hoping to gain her attention. He was fretting. Perhaps it had been wrong to give her access to _every_ book. There might be some things that were too dark for her. It was undeniable that she was a light soul, unencumbered by the stains of Dark Magic. "What's happened?" He prodded when he got no response.

Sitting beside her on the couch, he found that the book was open to a chapter on the Imperius Curse. He winced. Personally, he thought that the Imperius was worse than the Cruciatus, though both were distasteful. He'd used both, as they each had had their uses during the uprising, but he didn't expect Hermione to understand that.

"I never knew." She said quietly. "I never knew that this kind of curse existed." She whispered, wiping desperately at the tears that had escaped now that she had company.

"Yes, they are usually not discussed." He admitted. They would usually not be discussed in polite company, though that was changing now that King Voldemort had come to power.

"Do you...do you think that this would work on a muggle?" She asked, and the heartbreaking, pleading tone in her voice made him long to give her the right answer.

He shrugged. "Yes, all magic works on muggles. They just can't tell what it is." He knew other wizards who would curse muggles without a second thought, but he did find that a bit...well, they were easy targets, and Antonin always preferred a challenge.

"Merlin!" Hermione gasped, new tears down her cheeks. "I don't know wether to be relieved or enraged." Her shoulders slumped.

"Please tell what's going on, mishka." He pleaded. All of her words thus far had been cryptic and confusing. He wanted to make her feel better, but he couldn't do that until he knew what was _wrong._

"Remember how I told you that Umbridge came to my house to take me to Hogwarts?" She said, sounding broken. "I was so upset that they just let me go with her. I always thought it was odd, but now reading this..." She trailed off, and Antonin felt dread settle in his stomach. "Umbridge must have used the this curse on them. All of the signs...they were serene, almost dazed looking, completely out of character."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and let her cry into his shirt, though he was internally seething. If he ever caught sight of Dolores Umbridge again, he would destroy her. He could not abide by his wife being mistreated so. It was surprising because if he hadn't chosen her, he never would have known about all the awful things that went on.

"I thought that they just didn't want me anymore." Hermione said, the pain of losing her parents bubbling up inside of her. She'd been plagued by feelings of inadequacy for so long. "I just thought that nobody wanted me, but she cursed them." It was a bit of comfort to know that they had wanted her, but it didn't erase the pain of never feeling good enough for the last seven years.

"Why would you think that?" He asked. Couldn't she see that she was all he wanted?

"Who would want me? I was difficult, pushy, a know-it-all, too curious for my own good." Hermione listed all the flaws that she assumed she had down to the freckles on her nose and her curling hair.

He turned her to look into his eyes, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She made eye contact with him and was surprised to see the intensity in his dark eyes. "I want you." He told her, completely serious, making Hermione's heart stop. "Won't you let me show you how much I want you?"

Feeling nervous, but also desperate to know, Hermione shut her eyes. She felt his lips press against her's and she sighed into the kiss. She'd been dreaming of kissing him again for weeks, but he never went further than a little kiss on the forehead. Ever since he started tutoring her, she found herself dreaming about him. She wanted more.

He tilted his head to the side, before pressing his tongue into her mouth, eager to map her body in his mind. She met him nervously, only to gain confidence when he moaned against her, arms wrapping around her body to pull her closer. Her nipples pebbled tightly and she wished that he would touch her there too.

Hermione squealed when he pulled her into his lap unexpectedly, only to melt at the closeness between them. She could feel his desire poking her leg, and it gave her hope that perhaps this tension between them wasn't entirely one sided. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she let her fingers play with the hair on the nape of his neck, smiling when he shuddered under her ministrations.

His head cupped her breast and flicked back and forth across her nipple, causing her to moan and shift, pressing her center against him. The friction from the action made her cry out at the sensation. Oh, Merlin, it felt so good. She did it again, again, again.

It seemed as though Antonin was enjoying it as well, because he thrust back up against her, grinding into her really, while his hand grabbed her hip to aid the action. Hermione could sense that she was getting closer to...something, and she desperately wanted it. Without realizing it, she had been pleading, begging. "Please, please, please Antonin."

His hand slipped underneath her robes, under her petticoats, until he found the hot skin of her thigh. She shivered and continued to press down on him, swirling her hips in erratic patterns until his thumb found the the button at the top of her sex. Her body sung at the glorious sensation, overwhelmed with pleasure until she finally reached that peak. Her body seemed to contract tightly, her center throbbing with a sweet release, and she could vaguely hear him groaning as well. She collapsed against him, her eyes drooping closed. She had been through so many emotional ups and downs that day that it was no surprise when she fell asleep.

Antonin was a bit proud that he had affected her so greatly, sated her so well that she couldn't keep her eyes open, but felt a bit silly for coming in his trousers. He cast a scourgify to clean himself up. It had been years since that had happened to him. Apparating them up to the loft, he tucked Hermione into bed after removing her boots.

While his rage had been temporarily cooled by his lust, it returned in full force when he saw sweet, innocent Hermione in bed. She was precious to him, he could admit that now. When he'd selected her, he knew that she was a strong witch, but he didn't anticipate the affectionate feelings that would follow. She was so tiny, and she was his to protect. He couldn't believe that she'd spent so much time thinking that no one could want her. He didn't think that he had ever wanted anyone more.

Apparating to the village, he entered the bar to find Rabastan and Reuben laughing in their booth. Luckily, they'd just gotten in a shipment of firewhiskey, so he ordered a double and made his way to his two friends. Drinking half in one gulp, he slammed his glass down on the table.

"Oi! What's up with you?" Rabastan asked. Since he'd married Hermione, it had become very unusual to catch a glimpse of this Antonin, eyes glittering in rage. He was not a man to be trifled with, incredibly skilled in the dark arts and a ruthless dueler.

"They imperioed Hermione's parents." He said darkly.

Reuben was the first to recover from the statement. "Whose they? And to what end?" Why would anyone want to imperio two random muggles.

"Dolores Umbridge imperioed Hermione's parents when she visited. Promised to take her to Hogwarts and then imperioed them to sign over their daughter's life to her." He was seething, when he thought of how heartbroken Hermione had been. "She's spent the last seven fucking years thinking that no one wanted her."

Reuben hissed and Rabastan just looked appalled. "That's despicable. I thought they were only bringing mudbl-muggleborns, sorry, into our world now if they wanted to." Yaxley questioned.

Rabastan shook his head. "No, they are being taught and sold to purebloods. Some are treated well - I think the Potter boy married his muggleborn. They even have a son now - but others are not. Bellatrix has had three muggleborns and she treats them worse than house elves."

Antonin was extremely grateful that Hermione had been sent to the colony. He could imagine what Bellatrix would do to someone with Hermione's argumentative tongue. She would have destroyed Hermione's inquisitive mind.

"That's disgusting." Reuben answered, and Antonin made a noise of agreement. "The King is getting more irrational." He whispered.

"I will promise you this." Antonin said seriously. "If I ever see that toad Umbridge again I will kill her in the most excruciating way I can come up with." His friends nodded, knowing just what Antonin could do to a person when motivated.

A beat passed and Reuben wanted to lighten to mood. "So, did you show Hermione how much _you_ wanted her then?" He asked, knowing that their lack of intimacy was a subject to tread lightly on. He knew Antonin wouldn't force himself on her, but he knew that his friend wanted much more out of their relationship as well.

A bright pink blush on his cheeks as he remembered what he'd done just a while before gave away the truth. He took a another drink from his glass while his two friends laughed at his expense.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thanks so much for your reviews, favorites, and follows! Ffnet is still being weird, but I am trying to respond to reviews when I get the chance. So sorry if I've missed one of yours! This chapter, we get to see a bit of Antonin's past and a bit of drama! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks and story updates.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter nine and be on the lookout for chapter ten soon!

* * *

Ever since Hermione had found out the truth about her parents' treatment, she had been quite down. She'd practically shunned the magic books, except for a few arithmancy treatises and spent most of her time out in the garden. On the one hand, he thought it was good for her to spend time outside, knowing that winter was nearing. He'd lived through one of Canada's winters already, and even with magic, things had seemed dire more than once.

He knew that she spent a lot of time with the chickens, and the little creatures in turn loved her, following her around, begging for bits of feed. Antonin wouldn't be surprised if she'd given the four hens names by now and was able to differentiate between them. He was thinking about getting her a goat to go with them, seeing how much she doted on them, but he had no barn for them, and he certainly wasn't going to have a goat live inside the cabin with him once the snow flew!

Another benefit was just how much their little garden had flourished with her attentions. Antonin had only been able to get tomatoes to grow with any success or regularity, but Hermione had already harvested carrots, brussel sprouts, and had planted squash and pumpkins, which were growing fat and orange on their vines.

He remembered the first time he'd seen them and had been shocked. "We are meant to eat that?" He'd asked her, only to deeply offend her sensibilities.

"Of course we can eat it." She told him, hands on her hips. "Why do you think I've planted them?" As though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Yes, there were benefits to her extended time outside. But, on the other hand, he hated seeing her spark for learning magic fizzle out. She knew what kind of dark magic was out there, even what dark magic _he himself_ had told her he'd performed, but it never bothered her before. Once she knew the victims, though, it seemed to define the meaning of it to her.

He knew that he needed to do something for her, something to bring a bit of joy into her life. Not for the first time, he wondered just how she'd wormed her way into his life, so much so that he was worried not just about her well being, but her _happiness_ as well. He didn't even care about his own happiness.

Getting oranges in on the latest shipment was a surprise, and really, Antonin was lucky he'd been assigned to help unload the trunks. He knew he was a large man, though not nearly as large as the likes of Rowle, and could always be counted on to do the hard physical labor.

"How much for the oranges?" He asked Lucius, when he and Thorfinn had finished with the shipment. Food staples were equally distributed, but a luxury item like an orange would only go for a certain price.

Lucius raised one dark blond eyebrow at Antonin, before setting a price. "I'll give you one for a galleon, Dolohov." He said, perhaps thinking that it was too rich for Antonin's blood.

Antonin looked over the oranges that had come. A galleon was a lot to spend on a piece of fruit which would be quickly devoured, but there weren't many in the box. They were unbruised, perfectly orange. He wondered if Hermione had ever even had one before. "I'll take it." He said, finally, digging in his pocket for a gold piece, before selecting the best looking orange.

Walking home with a skip in his step, he heard footsteps coming up behind him. "Did you get that for your mudblood?" Thorfinn asked, curiosity piqued.

Antonin turned round on him, hand tightly around his wand, but not drawn. "You would do well not to call _my wife_ that Rowle." Antonin liked Thorfinn alright. They usually ended up working together, but he was very young and very hotheaded. He always spoke without thinking and he'd been in more than one fight because of it.

"Sorry." The blond man said, hands up in surrender. "It's habit." He said, with a frown. He hadn't realized that Dolohov liked his wife quite so much that he was willing to fight over it. Last he heard, Rodolphus had to twist Antonin's arm to even get him to go look at the filles. Said it was important with his standing in the Death Eaters.

"I don't know if _Hermione_ likes oranges." Antonin said, trying to rid himself of his bad mood before he returned home. "If she doesn't want it, I will eat it."

Thorfinn nodded in understanding. "Well, hope she likes it then." Even if Antonin didn't want to admit it, the other man knew that it was a present. Many things had changed since England, and Thorfinn was sure that Antonin feeling this level of...affection for any woman was one of them. Biding his occasional partner farewell, he left to return to his own house.

When he got home, Hermione was inside, cooking one of those suspicious looking pumpkins. She'd cut into it and was working on getting whatever was in the interior into some kind of soup. He was highly suspicious of the plant, but knew he would try it because Hermione had made it. She greeted him with a quiet hello, but didn't look up from her work.

"I have brought you a present." He said quietly, sitting down in one of the wooden chairs that surrounded their table. That certainly got Hermione's attention. She stopped what she was doing and sat down at the table next to him, leaving a wooden spoon stirring in the pot. Antonin reached into his pocket and pulled out the brightly colored orange, placing it on the table for her to inspect.

She gasped in surprise and lovingly touched the peel. "Is this an orange?" She asked, her brown eyes lighting up. When he nodded she broke into a full smile. She felt the weight of it in her hand and was about to peel it, but stopped. "I've never had one of these before. Maybe we should save it for a special occasion?"

He tried not to laugh at her, really he did, but he couldn't contain the chuckle. "Mishka, it will spoil if we don't eat it now. They only stay fresh for a while." He took the orange from her and began to peel it for her.

Hermione liked watching his long fingers make work of the outside peel. His hands always seemed large, but with the tiny fruit in his palms, it exaggerated the look. He was so sure in his movements, and before long, he was offering her a section of the fruit. Hermione took it, biting into it, unable to contain her moan at the taste of it. It was much juicier than she expected. "It's so sweet!" She told him with a smile, before finishing off the section.

He handed her another one. "Aren't you going to have some?" She asked, wanting to share this special treat with her husband. "I couldn't possibly eat it all on my own." Nodding, he took a section for himself, the flavor taking him back to when he was just a child.

"My mother used to love oranges. She would always get them from Italy when I was a child." He told her, sectioning the rest of the fruit so it could be shared between them.

Hermione was eager to hear any mention of his childhood. He rarely talked about what his life was like before Hogwarts. "What was your mother like?" The question came bubbling up before she thought that he might not talk about her for a reason.

"Beautiful. Vain. Stubborn." He told her. "She always wanted the best in life and when my father died she brought us - my sister Iskra and I - to England. She was terribly upset when no English gentlemen were falling at her feet."

She felt a bit badly for her husband. It must have been hard to have your whole life uprooted immediately after losing your father. "What was your father like?" She asked, wanting to know more about the man in front of her. She could understand why he was the way he was.

"Quiet. Angry. Quick to temper." Antonin said with a shrug. "He was not a nice man, but he always looked after us." Hermione felt grateful that she had such wonderful parents, even if she'd only had them for a short while.

"What was it like? Coming to England? Was it very different?" Hermione could tell by his expression that he was getting annoyed with her questions but he kept answering them anyway.

"Russia was familiar, so I hated England when I first arrived. It was never..cold enough. The weather was too weak and I barely knew a word of English. It was difficult at first, but I found my own way. Iskra was quite popular at Hogwarts, as she was quite pretty, but I did not have good looks to fall back on, only my wand."

Hermione gave him a small smile. "I wouldn't say you don't have good looks Antonin." It was the first time that she admitted to him that she found him attractive. To her surprise, it seemed to bolster his confidence a bit. She watched as he puffed his chest out, though she was sure it was unconscious. Really, how could he not know that he was attractive, with his broad shoulders and arms covered in ropey muscle? She'd stopped what she was doing more than once to watch him carry something.

"Well, boys in Slytherin house certainly didn't find me attractive." He said, finally. Hermione giggled at that, thinking that they probably wouldn't. Before they knew it the orange was gone, but they didn't stop talking. Hermione had even managed to wheedle a few childhood stories out of him.

* * *

Hermione sighed, unwilling to really eat her pumpkin stew, just moving it back and forth. She couldn't deny the fact that she was bored. Very bored really.

It wasn't that she didn't like spending time with Antonin, it was just...he was all she ever saw. She wondered about Ginny, knowing that she was probably due to have her baby soon. Or Luna. She'd seemed happy enough with her husband, but she'd only seen her so briefly that she couldn't be sure. She needed a little time with other girls. She'd grown up with only women and it was hard to go to only ever seeing one man.

After hearing Hermione sigh for what seemed like the one hundredth time, Antonin finally snapped. "What? What is it that has you sighing this way and that?"

Hermione jumped at his sudden outburst, embarrassed. She hadn't been aware that she'd been so obvious. "I just...I was thinking that it might be nice to see Luna." She said quietly, unsure of how he would take it. "I just get so lonely here, during the day. It might be nice to spend time with another girl."

Antonin rubbed his hand over his face. He frequently met at the tavern with Reuben and Rab and they were constantly pestering him to bring Hermione around to see them. They teased that he was just keeping her locked up to please him, which couldn't be further from the truth. But now Hermione wanted to go as well.

Really, it wasn't fair to her that she be cooped up all this cabin all this time. "Fine. Do you have a cloak?" He asked, getting his own. If she wanted to get out, he would take her out to the bar with him. He knew if they didn't leave quick, he was going to change his mind.

Hermione excitedly got her cloak on and allowed Antonin to apparate her. She was surprised when he steered her to the same bar that they got married in. It was a bit odd to go back, especially when it was not so full.

"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in." A voice said as soon as the doors shut behind them. Hermione felt Antonin stiffen beside her, but he didn't stop the other man from grabbing at her and pressing a kiss to each of her cheeks. "Aren't you looking radiant tonight Mrs. Dolohov?"

"Alright, Rab, paws off my wife." Antonin groused beside her. Oh yes, Hermione remembered. This was Luna's husband. He was certainly flirtatious.

"Good evening Mr. Lestrange." Hermione responded, trying to be as formal as possible so as not to embarrass her husband. "How is Luna?" She asked, politely.

"Ah, you've finally let her away from the bed long enough to come socialize, I see." A second man approached the little trio. Hermione remembered that this one was called Yaxley. Her cheeks colored. Antonin and her had still not talked about what had happened on their couch and they certainly hadn't attempted it again.

Looking at Antonin, she could see that he was embarrassed by Yaxley's pronouncement as well. "Leave it, Reuben." He growled.

"Come, Luna is here. You can chat with her." Rabastan said, sensing that this was deeper than Reuben was expecting. He lead them over to where Luna was waiting. As soon as the small blonde waif saw her friend, she pulled Hermione in a tight hug.

"Why don't you girls sit right here, where you can catch up? We will just be right over there." Rabastan said in a soothing voice that rankled Hermione, but Luna just seemed to fawn over him. Antonin gave her an encouraging look before following his two friends away.

"You barely let me talk to her." Reuben said, laughing to himself as Antonin and Rabastan arranged themselves on one side of the booth so that they could keep a firm eyesight on the two girls sitting at their own table.

"Well, perhaps if you could behave yourself, she would be sitting with us." Rabastan countered, knowing that his friend just wanted to make sure that Antonin was dealing okay with this new person in his life.

"In any case, we aren't here to talk to her." Antonin said with a growl. "You know that we have other business to attend to."

He had been meeting with Yaxley and Rabastan for weeks now and they frequently brought up their frustrations with King Voldemort and the way that he ran things under tightly controlled anti-spying spells so that no one would overhear them. None of them were happy with the way things were working out, but now they were just starting to talk about doing something.

King Voldemort had rode to power on the back of pureblood ideals and traditions. Those in power were too indulgent to mudbloods and outsiders, outlawing many traditions that purebloods had participated in for years. It had been easy to support him and the world he promised. The only problem was he hadn't delivered on his word. Muggleborns were still being forced into their world, and their treatment was something that Antonin could not abide by. Blood status didn't seem to matter much to the King, just how much money someone was willing to give him.

Once he'd gotten what he wanted, King Voldemort had treated his Death Eaters like dragon dung, showing them that they were disposable time after time. He treated them little better than pawns and his moods shifted like the wind. You could never be sure that you were safe.

For Antonin, the last straw had been being sent to this colony and then forced to take a wife. Though things with Hermione seemed to working out for him, it didn't mean that he was thrilled with the way things had been forced on him. He hadn't wanted to come to this unknown land and, in the end, he hadn't been given a choice. His life had no meaning to the King.

The same resentment bubbled up in his two friends. Reuben was glad to get away from his hellion of a wife, but he hadn't enjoyed the hard work and cold weather. Rabastan, as the second son, should be spending his life enjoying court life back in England, fucking girls and getting drunk every night.

Things weren't getting any better in the colony either. People resented the likes of Rodolphus and Lucius doing little work and reaping all the benefits. Others were putting in their fair share and being treated like dirt. Any dissent, though, was met by a stern _warning_ from Fenrir Greyback.

The only problem was the three of them didn't know how to help. "Luna is onboard." Rabastan told them quietly. Antonin was surprised that Rabastan would confide in his wife. The man was not known for trusting people.

Before they could discuss further, though, something caught his eye. To his dismay, he caught Fenrir bothering the two girls. He had his hand on Hermione's shoulder and was looking at her as though she were a steak. Antonin felt hot rage bubble up inside of him, and he almost knocked the table.

He crossed the room in three long strides, hitting Fenrir on the shoulder and pushing him back from Hermione, stepping between them. "What the fuck do you think you are doing Grayback?" He demanded, his voice a snarl.

"Easy there little man." Fenrir responded. "You wouldn't want something to happen to you. Just who would protect your lovely mudblood then?" He asked with a leering smile at Hermione.

Before Fenrir could block it, Antonin was blasting Fenrir back, sending him sprawling into some tables. The werewolf hopped up, snarling back. He didn't like to be pushed around. He charged at Antonin, who was quick with a wand, but not as quick with his movements. Fenrir knocked Antonin onto his back, getting two punches to Antonin's face before Antonin got a swing into Fenrir's kidney. The larger man groaned and Antonin was able to push him off.

Climbing back to his feet, he cast some dark spells, only to be annoyed when Fenrir blocked most of them, until a curse of his own creation got by. He smiled a cruel little smile when he saw the pain immediately register on Fenrir's face, but in his cockiness, he relaxed for a moment and missed the cutting spell sent his way. It caught his side, blood immediately staining the white linen of his shirt.

His rage knew no bounds at this point and he cast the cruciatus curse, taking pleasure in the sounds of pain that he drew out of the werewolf's mouth.

"Antonin!" Hermione shouted. Her hand was on his wand arm, and only when he saw the worry in her eyes did he end the curse. "Please, Antonin, you're hurt." Hermione whispered, blinking quickly to fight back the tears.

He nodded, feeling his energy waning and his side really hurt more than he realized. "This isn't over wolf." He spat at the man, struggling to stand. Grabbing Hermione's arm, he apparated them back to the cabin, eager to get home.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad you all like Antonin standing up for Hermione and the bit with the orange! I hope you like this chapter just as much as things are starting to heat up revolution wise. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates, and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter ten and be on the lookout for chapter eleven soon!

* * *

Looking around, Hermione was glad that Antonin had apparated them up to the loft of their cabin, knowing that she wouldn't have been able to get him up the ladder by herself. Already, she had his arm over her shoulder, and he was incredibly heavy to hold up. She figured he must weigh nearly twice as much as she did, while she helped him to the bed.

"Don't want to get the sheets bloody." He told her when she tried to get him to lay down. She could tell that he was losing a good amount of blood, as her fingers were already painting sticky red.

Hermione just pushed him back. "Don't worry about the bloody sheets!" She cried, trying to keep her cool, but she was quickly losing it. She didn't want to think about what would happen if her husband died. All of those horrible things that that man...Grayback had promised her at the tavern made her skin crawl.

She made quick work of his shirt, undoing the rows of tiny buttons, before peeling it off, murmuring apologies where the shirt had dried to the cut wound on his side. She noticed it seemed to extend into his pants, so she got to work on unlacing those as well.

Antonin, seemingly delirious with blood loss, was laughing. "If you wanted me naked, mishka, you just had to ask." He told her with a half grin on his face, only to groan when she pulled his trousers away from the cut.

"Of all the times to be flirty with me." Hermione said, worry on her face. This cut was really much deeper than she expected and it made her worried. She only had limited healing knowledge but the cut needed to be closed up.

Running her hand over her face, she got an idea. She didn't know much about healing spells, but she was really good with embroidery. Using her wand, she began stitching up his side, watching as the skin closed. It wouldn't be pretty, she knew, but he _should_ be okay.

Biting her lip, seeing the uneven stitching, she tried to think of what else she should do. "Think, Hermione, think." She whispered to herself, before remembering something she read about a plant in one of Antonin's herbology texts. "Wait here." She said, before hurrying down the ladder.

Opening the cabinet that help their potion ingredients and medicines, she shoved bottles aside until she found the one she was looking for. Hurrying back to her husband's side, she unstoppered the little bottle. "What's that?" He asked, sleepily.

"Essence of dittany." Hermione responded before dropping the cool clear liquid on his wound, her hands shaking under the adrenaline. She sighed in relief though as the skin began healing much better than her crude stitches could have done. "For the scarring." She whispered.

His face was still quite bloody, so she conjured a wet washcloth and began wiping the blood away, apologizing when she heard him groan. Judging by the awkward angle of his nose, she would say that it was definitely broken. "I'm going to fix your nose now."

"Have you done it before?" He asked, a slight look of concern in his dark eyes.

Hermione sighed. "You know I haven't Antonin. But I've practiced." She wasn't about to put up with any arguments from him, knowing that it would hurt much more if it had already started to heal and needed to be reset. "Now lie still. Episkey." A short tap of her wand and a groan of pain from her husband later, and his nose was back to usual.

Seeing him mostly better - no longer bleeding of course - Hermione let out a sigh of relief before letting some tears fall. Oh, she'd been so worried that she might lose him. She wondered just when she'd become so concerned with his well being that the thought of him not in her life…

She pressed her lips against his fiercely, only easing off a bit when she bumped noses with him, smiling against him, knowing that he was probably still quite sore. Still, he eagerly responded to her, his mouth opening to her, so that she could deepen the kiss. He used one hand to tangle in her curls, pulling her closer to him, until there was no space between them.

It felt so wonderful to be claimed like this, she thought, until a quiet noise in the living room broke her attention. "Hermione?" Someone called out.

She moaned into his mouth, before whispering, "You just wait here."

Looking over the edge of the loft, she saw none other than Yaxley waiting for her in the living room. "Mr. Yaxley. What are you doing here?" She inquired, though she was glad to have another wizard look over her handiwork.

"I was worried about Antonin." He admitted. "Looked like he lost a lot of blood, so I brought some potions that might help." He told her.

Hermione wasn't very good at reading people, but she knew that Antonin trusted Yaxley. "Alright, come up here then." She beckoned him and in seconds he was coming up the ladder. "I've healed the gash on his side and repaired his broken nose." Hermione said softly, hoping that she'd done a good job.

Yaxley looked at his friend who was nearly naked, but instead of teasing him, he was more focused on the cut on his side. It seemed to be healing nicely. "Excellent work, Hermione." He complimented, before getting out two vials. "This one is a blood replenishing potion. And this one's for the pain. But it will make him quite sleepy."

Hermione took the potions and Reuben stood off to the side. Hermione helped Antonin sit up so that she could give him the potions, one after another. Reuben felt like an outsider during such an intimate moment. She cradled his head so lovingly, and spoke quiet soothing words while Antonin drank the liquid. Reuben was glad that Antonin had ended up with a witch as lovely as Hermione. Surely their relationship wasn't all that bad.

After he took the pain potion, Hermione settled him back down and tucked Antonin into bed. Then she turned to Yaxley. "Thank you so much for bringing these. Do you play cards, Mr. Yaxley?" She asked.

"Call me Reuben." He said with a broad smile. "And yes I do."

* * *

When Antonin woke up, his head felt fuzzy, like he was surrounded by wool. The light seemed too bright and he could hear the murmur of voices. He felt awful, like he'd been hit by a bus, but the majority seemed to be coming from his side. Lifting the covers, he could see a waxy pinkish scar beginning to form on his abdomen, reaching down to his hip.

He focused on the voices and things eventually became clearer. That was Hermione's tinkling laugh, he was sure of it. That was good. She was...safe. But then, the other voice was certainly male.

Hauling himself up from the bed, he replaced his trousers, but didn't bother with a shirt, before heading down the ladder, towards the sound of the voices. He couldn't tell if he was relieved or annoyed to learn that it was Hermione and Reuben, sitting at _his_ kitchen table, eating breakfast with one another. "What the hell are you doing here?" He asked, his voice still rough with sleep.

Reuben looked affronted, before turning to Hermione with a smile. "See, didn't I tell you he was a jealous bastard?" He asked his wife, only to send her into another fit of giggles, before turning to face him again. "I thought you could use an extra bit of protection last night. I figured you would be out of commission if Greyback showed up."

The night before and the fight came rushing back to him. Hermione's worried face and quick fingers, healing him. Her hot and frantic kisses when she realized that he would be okay. He sat down in another chair at the table, running his hand over his face. It was good that Reuben had come. "Thank you, Yax." He said quietly.

Hermione stood then, getting her husband a plate of scrambled eggs. "Reuben helped me heal you. He had potions I didn't know existed." She said quietly. "Then he helped keep my mind off of worrying about you while you slept."

His narrowed eyes and concerned look had Hermione giggling again. "We played cards until he was too tired and fell asleep."

"You've got a bit of a card shark on your hands, Antonin." Reuben said with a smile. "But would it kill you to get a more comfortable couch? I swear, I've got knots in my back now." He stretched and sighed. It wasn't the most comfortable night of sleep he'd gotten, but it would do.

"He also told me about how jealous you are." Hermione chided. "Said that you've been hiding me away so that I don't catch anyone else's eye." Hermione couldn't imagine that happening. She was a mudblood after all, not exactly a hot commodity. That Greyback had said some atrocious things to her, but it wasn't as though he desired her love.

Antonin finally felt at ease with the rapport that had formed between his friend and wife, confident that there was nothing untoward going on between the two of them. "Can you blame me, mishka, if I want to keep you all to myself?"

Hermione smiled and whacked him on the shoulder. She could tell that something had shifted in their relationship last night. He'd protected her from that man. It was a bit arousing to know that such a powerful man would go to such lengths for her. She couldn't deny that Antonin was strong. And then, she had been so worried, so concerned when he was injured on her behalf. Hermione was just glad that she was able to help him.

While she was thinking, an uncomfortable silence had settled between the three of them. Something had been on her mind since they got back from the bar. It was something she'd noticed when she was talking to Luna last night. "I know that you three are planning something." She said, eyebrows together.

Antonin's first instinct was to deny it, but he could tell by the tenacious look on her face that Hermione wasn't letting this go. "You don't need to concern yourself with this." He said, his eyes on his half empty plate.

"I am your _wife_ Antonin. You _don't_ keep secrets from me." Hermione said fiercely and Antonin knew that this was a fight he was going to lose.

He sighed, looking at Reuben, who just shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "I can't tell you without Rabastan and Luna. We can have them over for dinner tonight, and I will explain everything then. Reuben, you'll come round too?" He asked.

After Reuben agreed that he would come back, his blond friend left the couple alone together. He was barely out the door before Hermione was wrapping him in an affectionate embrace. "I was so worried, Antonin." She whispered.

"I won't leave you alone." He pledged to her, solemnly. Using a finger under her chin to tip her face up to look at him, he dipped his head to kiss her sweet lips again. It seemed a crime that he'd kissed her so much the night before when he was half out of his mind from blood loss.

To his joy, she melted against him, rubbing her nose against his. Her hands cupped his chin, rubbing her thumbs along his bearded chin. She initiated the next kiss, trapping his lower lip between her sweet ones, giving him a little nibble, before breaking away. Her smile seemed to light up the whole room.

"Come on, you promised dinner for five people, so you've got to help me get ready. I don't even know what to prepare." Hermione wished she could spend the whole afternoon kissing him as well, but first, she needed answers.

* * *

Hermione had spent most of her afternoon getting their cabin in shining clean condition. She wasn't your typical house witch, but she also wanted to show Antonin that she was proud to show off the home that they had together. She shelved books she had left lying around in the first floor and cleaned all the plates they'd be using. The bloodied sheets that Antonin had slept on were, unfortunately, a total loss.

Antonin secured them some venison, which Hermione had roasted along with fresh brussel spouts and tomatoes. With her food in the oven and place settings on the table, Hermione was finally able to relax, but her mind wouldn't shut off.

She kept turning in her head over and over again what her husband and his friends could possibly be planning. It was something serious judging by the amount of time Antonin spent at the pub. If Luna was involved, Hermione couldn't imagine it was anything to do with..Death Eater business.

She was glad she was going to get a chance to speak with Luna again. She'd barely gotten any information from Luna about her realtionship with Rabastan, other than Luna was quite happy, before that awful man started to bother them.

Three pops in their front yard alerted Hermione that her guests had arrived. "Antonin! They're here." She called up to the loft where he was still getting ready. It was slow going due to his injury. She let the motley trio into her cheery home and got them all something to drink. It turned out that Antonin had squirreled away some elfen wine, which the two men were surprised to see.

"Antonin is always holding out on us." Reuben said with a smile. "Hermione here let me into his firewhiskey last night." Hermione blushed, not knowing that it was meant to be secret.

When Antonin came down the ladder, the five of them sat around the table, each with a bit of dinner on their plates. Everyone else began to tuck in, but Hermione wasn't going to let dinner slip by without getting an explanation. "There's no use putting it off. You should just tell me what you're planning now." She tried to sound authoritarian, to Rabastan's amusement.

"Merlin, she's a bossy little thing, isn't she?" He asked Antonin with a laugh.

Hermione was not amused and let out a little huff. "Please just tell me. I think I deserve to know." She pleaded, staring Antonin in the eyes. She trusted him whole heartedly at this point. Did he trust her also?

Silence seemed to stretch on between the table and Hermione could practically feel the tension. "We are unhappy with the current state of affairs in the colony. The King hasn't treated us like people in years. He sends us over here and we reap none of the benefits our hard work puts in." Antonin told her.

"We've been trying to figure out a way to become a free colony." Rabastan added quietly. "But there are obsticles to achieving our ends."

"Not to mention that it's extraordinarily dangerous. This conversation alone is treason, punishable by death." Reuben added. Hermionne felt her heart skip a beat at that pronouncement. She couldn't imagine losing Antonin now after they'd been through so much together, but she could agree that a future without King Voldemort seemed much brighter.

"Let me help." Hermione offered, only to feel Antonin squeeze her knee under the table.

"It's too dangerous for you mishka." Hermione let out a huff of frustration. She wondered why it wasn't too dangerous for Luna, before she realized her error. She was a mudblood and if caught was much less likely to be treated well.

"I don't care. You know what they did to my parents! You know what they did to me. Brought me to that awful home, limited my learning, sent me over here to be married to a man I didn't know." Hermione was angry and she knew that she could help.

Antonin looked like he wanted to argue more with her, but Reuben broke the tension. "Hey now, don't make him feel worse. He's the man you didn't know." It was obvious that while Hermione and Antonin had grown fond of one another, neither of them were willing participants in the filles du roi program.

Her husband stared at her hard for another beat, before nodding, perhaps realizing that Hermione was stubborn enough that she was going to help no matter what. "Fine, but if I say something is too dangerous, you must listen to me." He implored. Hermione hestitantly agreed.

"So, what is the plan. What do we need to accomplish to get out from under Voldemort's thumb?" She asked, finally happy to tuck into her own dinner.

"Well, there are currently four people that we need to...remove in order to break ties with England." Antonin started.

Seeing Hermione's confused expression, Luna looked at her with that dreamy expression. "He means we'll have to kill them, Hermione."

The brunette gulped before nodding. She supposed death was a part of revolution. "So who are they?"

"Lucius Malfoy controls the finances. Evan Rosier deals with the legal tasks - he is the one who bonded us." Antonin said softly. Hermione nodded, remembering the creepy old man.

"Rodolphus Lestrange is the voice for the common man on their council." Rabastan said quietly, his blue eyes shining.

Hermione gasped. "Your-"

"Brother. Yes. He's a right asshole, though, so don't worry over me too much." Rabastan added with a hint of a smirk on his face. "And finally, Fenrir Greyback. He is the muscle. He keeps any dissenters in line."

Hermione was glad to learn that they were going to get rid of that man. "So now we just need a way to kill them all, in disparate ways, that won't arouse suspicion." Hermione said. "Who is the weak link of the four of them?"

"Probably Lucius Malfoy." Antonin said with a shrug. "He has many enemies already, as he reaps wealth while the rest of us toil over hard labor. Someone burned down the place where he kept the tax ledger."

"So we'll start with him." Hermione said, a determined look on her face.

Luna was pleased. "Excellent! I think this is the most progress we've made in weeks."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! They really mean so much! I can't believe it, but this story only has ten chapters left! Don't worry, though, I have lots of other stories planned. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter eleven and be on the lookout for chapter twelve soon!

* * *

The morning after the dinner with the rest of their co conspirators, Hermione's mind was whirring with possibilities at how to take care of Lucius Malfoy. She didn't know much about the man, other than he was married to her friend Ginny and seemed interested in continuing a pure blood line.

It did seem a bit disconcerting to Hermione that Ginny had gotten pregnant so quickly, and Hermione was grateful that Antonin hadn't tried something similar with her. He'd been very respectful with her, even that first night together, and she'd been enjoying the gradual increase in affection between the two of them.

She hadn't told him, but one of her favorite times was in the mornings when she'd wake up to his fingers running through her messy curls, or the barest press of his lips against the back of her neck. She wondered if he even realized she knew he was doing this. By the same token, she loved falling asleep every night, her head pressed against his broad chest, his firm, insistent heartbeat lulling her to sleep.

Hermione hadn't been exposed to many men while she was at the Home, but she couldn't deny that she was attracted to her husband. He was more rough than Rabastan or Reuben, scruffy and wild. He was obviously strong and powerful and the thought that he was all her's did send pleasurable shivers through her body. Even though she wouldn't act on it.

The more she thought on her good fortune, the more Hermione became convinced that Ginny could not be pleased with a man like Malfoy. He was cool and looked down on those he considered lesser than himself. Hermione was sure that Ginny could be convinced to help them, if she was approached delicately.

"I have an idea about Malfoy." Hermione said, once she'd cleaned up after breakfast.

Her pronouncement startled Antonin. His wife had been quite engrossed in her own thoughts all morning and he worried that she might be second guessing their little plan. Or, he could dream as much. He would do everything in his power to keep Hermione out of harm's way. "And what is this brilliant idea?" He asked, tentatively.

Hermione sat back down across from him. "Well, you see, my friend Ginny was selected by Malfoy." She nibbled her lower lip. "I know that she can't be happy with such an awful individual as Malfoy. She is much too sweet. I think she could be convinced to help us."

Antonin slapped his hand on the table. "Absolutely not, Hermione. We are already taking a big enough risk bringing so many people into this little plot. I know she is your friend, but we cannot trust someone so close to one of the targets."

"But, Antonin." Hermione whined. "He got her pregnant right away. He's treating her like a brood mare. Just please, trust me on this. I have a good feeling." She wasn't sure why she was so confident in Ginny's actions, but she was. They hadn't known each other long, but they were already fond of one another.

"No, and I won't be swayed on this." He put his foot down. "I am sure that if you asked Luna she wouldn't even agree with your plan." Turning a bit too quick, he hissed at the pain in his side, grabbing at the healing scar.

Hermione instantly winced, before peeling up his shirt to look at the mending flesh. "It looks much better today. I'm sure you will be feeling better soon." She blinked back tears. She didn't like see him so hurt.

"Why do you cry?" He asked, gently grabbing her chin so that she couldn't look away from him. Her light brown eyes were so expressive, it was almost like reading a book.

"I just...hate that you got hurt because of me." Hermione said, swallowing the thick lump in her throat. She felt so guilty about what had happened to him, even though he was going to be okay. "And, I wish I had been able to help you more."

He smiled softly at her. "Nonsense. You helped me more than you know." He didn't want her to feel guilty when what happened was not her fault. "Don't blame yourself, it was all that mongrel Greyback."

Seeing her flinch at the name, Antonin bristled. "I wish you would tell me what he said to you." He prodded. "I promise that I will keep you safe from him."

"I...it's nothing, Antonin." Hermione tried to deflect. "He was just being an awful man to me."

She could see that her placating words did little to sooth him. "Tell me Hermione." He insisted. How could he keep her safe if he didn't know what he was up against? She must know that this was not just a matter of pride to him.

"He said...it's unfortunate that you are too possessive of a man to share me." Hermione started, shuddering, glad that Antonin wouldn't debase her like that. "But he also said, because you have such a hot head, you are likely to be killed one of these days. He promised to look after me when you were gone and that I would bare many...cubs for him."

Fenrir's words were not wrong on the count that Antonin was both possessive and hot headed. Hearing the things that he'd told his wife had him wanting to charge the werewolf down and fight him again. If only he wasn't so sore, he probably would. "Bloody werewolf." He swore under his breath.

"Werewolf?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Yes, he's a werewolf." Antonin said off hand, only to be surprised by Hermione's shocked gasp.

"Werewolves are real?" He asked, panic in her eyes. She couldn't believe that she was living in the same village as a werewolf. What on earth did he do during the full moon?

Antonin laughed, a deep rich laugh. "Merlin, if I ever track down those witches who taught you at the Home." His mood was completely lightened by Hermione's absolute naivete in certain areas of magic. "How you had seven years of schooling and they never taught you about dark creatures.." Really, he was annoyed at them for stunting Hermione's growth as a witch.

Her mind on other things, the threats that Fenrir had made seemed to drift from her, though Antonin promised himself he wouldn't forget. And he'd get even later.

* * *

Some days later, Hermione received a bit of mail from the owl post. Antonin was highly suspicious, and forced himself to let her read it without any interference. A broad smile came over her face. "Ginny has had her baby." She said, looking into his eyes. "She's invited me to come meet him."

Antonin couldn't imagine that meeting the spawn of a Weasley and a Malfoy would be a particularly fun afternoon. Just knowing the temperaments of the two families, he was likely to be an exceptionally fussy thing.

"Well?" Hermione prodded. "Can I go meet him?"

It was surprising how eager she was. Of course the topic of children had never come up between them. Of course she hadn't fallen pregnant after the first time. The only time. He would know by now. Did she want a child of her own? With him? "I suppose you could go." Antonin couldn't think fo a good reason to hold her back.

She nibbled her lower lip. "Now would be a good time to see if Ginny could help us." She started. "She is sure to be a ball of emotions. She'll tell us if it's what she wants."

"Hermione, we've talked about this. Absolutely not." He said, wanting to be firm. It was not wise to include another member.

"Please just let me feel it out. I promise that I will be so subtle. Just get her feeling on Lucius." Hermione pleaded.

He sighed. "You are going to do it no matter what, aren't you?" He asked, knowing that she was too stubborn to give this up. Feeling his shoulders sag, he knew that he was going to give in to her whims. "Fine, but just see...how she feels about him. Do not _breathe_ a word about the plan."

He was rewarded with a bright smile. "I promise. I won't disappoint you."

Before he knew it, he was walking Hermione over to the plot of land where the Malfoys lived. Lucius had had the first pick of land and already had a large house, with a little barn off to the side. This was exactly the reason why others didn't like Lucius. He only cared about himself, and would step on anyone to get his aims.

Hermione knocked on the door and Ginny opened the door excited. They began chatting and Antonin thought he might go mad from the inane conversation that they settled into, only to hiss when he felt a pain in his arm. Turning to Hermione, he got her attention. "I'm being summoned. I will return for you later."

He pressed his lips against hers in a quick kiss, before he apparated away from Malfoy's house to the town square.

When he arrived, it seemed that almost everyone had been assembled, but there wasn't anything obviously wrong. Finding Thorfinn Rowle looking bored not far away, he walked over to his frequent partner. "What's going on here?" He asked, annoyed at having to leave Hermione on her own.

Thorfinn gave him a smirk. "Seems that Lucius can't keep track of anything these days. Someone broke into the dry food stores last night. They are trying to figure out who it was."

That _was_ truly bad news, Antonin thought. They didn't have much when it came to dry stores and it would be weeks before a new shipment could be organized from across the Atlantic. Still, it gave him pause. It was unusual that two things Lucius was meant to manage had been sabotaged. First the tax building and then their food stores. And it seemed he wasn't the first person to realize is, if Thorfinn's words were to be believed.

Did someone hate the colony so much that they thought if they sabotaged it, they would be sent home? It wasn't as though them being there was exactly volunteer service, and they were told not to expect to return home when King Voldemort had sent them over.

"Who was guarding last night?" He asked, wanting to get to the bottom of this. He would need to start preparing if they didn't find the food. The winter before had been brutal, and he didn't fancy living through it again, but this time without provisions.

"I heard that it was Goyle." Thorfinn said. "Though I am not sure. It's not as though I have the schedules memorized."

Antonin wanted to roll his eyes at his partner, knowing that he was being particularly difficult, though Antonin supposed Thorfinn was just as displeased to be called here without warning.

Lucius stood in front of the assembled Death Eaters, a tight smile on his face. "Well, we know that someone has stolen from the food stores after Goyle was attacked while on watch last night."

"He was probably sleeping!" Someone from the crowd shouted, drawing a small laugh from the crowd, but Lucius was displeased, sending a stunner at the man who had shouted it.

"If you took the food, we just want it back. There will be no punishment." Antonin thought it looked as though it was killing him to say this. "However...if the food is not returned by sundown tomorrow, the offer of clemency is off the table."

He looked over the crowd, shrewd grey eyes appraising each and every man. "And, if you should know any information that helps us locate the food...you will be handsomely rewarded." He finished, perhaps hoping that one of the Death Eaters would roll on his brethren.

Thorfinn made a noise of disgust to his right and Antonin thought that he must be thinking on the same path as he was. "I can't believe he called us for this."

Antonin was inclined to agree. He didn't like leaving Hermione alone in an unknown place, especially when he knew that she was going to be treading into dangerous territory.

* * *

"That was precious." Ginny said with a sigh, after Antonin had popped away. "Glad to see that you are warming up to him. At your wedding you looked like you would rather kiss a toad than kiss him."

Hermione smiled at her characterization. She supposed a lot had changed between Antonin and her. He was nothing like what she expected, and he'd already helped her so much. He'd taught her so much about magic, their society. Hell, he'd even made her a wand. Shaking her head, a fond smile on her face, she turned to her friend. "Come on, I want to meet your son."

Ginny had Hermione sit in the parlor while she went to go retrieve the little boy. Hermione looked around the room while she was gone. It was obvious that the pair of them were very well off. For one, they had an actual house and it was lavishly decorated. Before she could think on it much more, Ginny waltzed back into the room.

"Here is little Arthur." She said. The baby was pale with pointed features, but with a shock of strawberry blond hair on the top of his head. He looked very annoyed, but sleepy, as though he'd been roused from a nap.

Hermione couldn't wipe the smile from her face. "Oh, look at this little gentleman." She cooed, slipping the tip of her finger into his tiny fist. He grabbed onto it, causing her heart to clench. Even if his father was a rude man, this little baby was precious.

Ginny surely looked proud as well. "Lucius let me name him after my father. But, I let him choose the middle name. Arthur Brutus. Apparently it was his grandfather's name." Hermione wondered what Antonin's grandfather was called. Hopefully it wasn't something like Brutus. "Would you like to hold him?"

The brunette eagerly agreed, wrapping him in her arms. He was so tiny. "Was it hard?" Hermione asked. In her adult life, she had never met a woman who had given birth before and it seemed tremendously difficult.

"It was the hardest thing I've ever done." Ginny said seriously. "But after I saw Arthur's little face, I knew that I would do it again in a heartbeat." Hermione nodded, knowing that there weren't many options to witches to prevent pregnancy. It was highly likely that Ginny would do it again.

"What does Lucius think of it?" Hermione asked, wanting to ease the conversation towards the blond man. She was incredibly curious about their relationship. They seemed to come from completely different backgrounds.

"Well, he dotes on Arthur." Ginny said, her voice low. "But he isn't around much. Still, I wouldn't give it up. He gives me whatever I want, if he can, and it's so nice to live in a proper house! My home in England was barely standing. It's just so nice to have...well, nice things for a change."

Hermione was disappointed that her friend was so shallow that she'd been swayed by a house and a few trinkets. Didn't she want to love her husband? He sounded like he was barely around. Still, she waxed lyrical about all the nice things that Lucius had gotten her and what a joy it was to be a _real_ society wife for a change.

She wouldn't burst Ginny's bubble by saying that this was hardly society, and it wasn't likely that she would have the same life back in England. Instead, she just smiled and nodded and oohed and ahhed over the new fine china plates that Lucius had gotten her, or the large emerald broach celebrating Arthur's birth.

When Antonin popped back and knocked on the door, Hermione couldn't deny that she was happy to see him. She wanted to get away from Ginny and her bragging before she lost her mind. Ginny was no longer the girl she'd met on the boat.

Saying goodbye to her friend, Hermione let Antonin apparate them back to their cabin, each trip getting easier and easier and she could tell that he was eager to hear what she'd gleaned. She just gave him a disappointed look and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I was wrong. Ginny fancies herself in love with Lucius...or, in love with his money anyway.

He wasn't surprised, but it wasn't as though he was so heartless that he would rub it in her face. Instead, he just gave her a sorry look. He was certain that her day had been worse than his. "I am sorry." He said, awkwardly. "We will just have to think of something else."

Luckily, the growing thought that Lucius was incompetent would only help their matters along. Honestly, how did you lose so much food? Where would it even have gone. If he was in charge, Antonin would be searching each and every house.

Hermione nodded listlessly. "I suppose." She smiled then. "Lucius let Ginny name the baby after her father, if they could use his grandfather's name for the middle. Arthur Brutus Malfoy." Hermione said, thinking that the name was rather unfortunate. Arthur wasn't bad, but Brutus...

Antonin smiled at that. "I wonder who would be more upset with that...Arthur Weasley or Lucius Malfoy?" It was no secret that the Weasleys and the Malfoys didn't exactly get around. Hermione giggled even if she didn't know the history.

For a moment, she wanted to ask him if he had any grandfathers who he would want to name his children after, but then she realized that they had never even spoken of the possibility of children and she didn't want to make him worry needlessly. Hermione thought of her own father and realized that he would never get to meet his own grandchildren.

Just feeling a bit sad, Hermione decided it was time for her to head to bed. She gave Antonin a quick kiss and goodnight, before heading up the ladder to bed.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad that you are enjoying this story, as I really enjoyed writing it. You can follow me on tumblr, where my handle is nauticalparamour. I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. This one has such a cliff hanger, I almost can't believe _I_ wrote it.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twelve and be on the look out for chapter thirteen soon!

* * *

Hermione had been feeling rather down about her failure to get Ginny on their side and Antonin was getting sick of her sad sighs and attitude. It wasn't as though it was going to work in the first place. He wanted to shake her and tell her that it wasn't her fault and they would just have to try to figure something else out.

He hated that he had to leave her alone so much during the day and he hoped that she wasn't too bored. She seemed to genuinely enjoy learning, and he'd begun writing out little exercises or arithmancy problems he remembered from school for her to work on. She was quickly breezing through the curriculum and he almost wished that they were still in England so he could arrange for her to take her OWLs.

Frowning, he remembered that she wouldn't be allowed to take the exams because she was a muggleborn.

Antonin had been working all week with Thorfinn Rowle in the fields that they had planted earlier that spring. Autumn had descended and it was time to begin harvesting. It was difficult work, but seeing as they were thought of as the strong men, it was their duty to organize it. At least they had a lot of help.

They had corn, beans, and radishes. So many radishes. Antonin hoped that Malfoy liked radishes because it seemed that it would be all that they were going to be eating for some time. The corn had been good and it could be ground down to make kind of a flour like substance for baking.

Thorfinn was fairly good company, as far as Antonin was concerned. He was generally polite, but not above telling dirty jokes. He didn't really say anything badly about Hermione, which was a positive, considering some of the things that the men said when his back was turned. It was a partnership forged through years of hard work.

Standing up straight and cracking the bones of his back, Antonin took a break, conjuring some water into a cup. Even though the temperature was cooling, it was still hot to him. Looking out over their progress, he hoped that they only had another week of this left. He wondered if Hermione was doing anything to prepare their garden for the winter. She'd recently said another pumpkin was nearly ready to be eaten.

Noticing his partner's goofy smile, Thorfinn stopped his work as well. "What has you smiling over there like a loon?"

Antonin tried not to seem embarrassed at being caught, but he removed the smile from his face, suddenly serious. "Just thinking about my own garden." He said, his voice gruff from misuse. "Hermione is cultivating these things called pumpkins."

The burly blond man seemed just as perplexed by the plant as Antonin was, when he tried to describe what it looked like. He was happy to say that it didn't taste all that bad and he was actually looking forward to having the second one. Not that he would ever admit that to Hermione. He didn't want to think of the teasing he'd receive from her especially when his initial reaction had been one of horror.

Before he could reveal anymore, Antonin was surprised to see Rabastan walking up to them. "Wonder what he wants." Thorfinn said under his breath, though he walked away, knowing that the two friends would want to speak privately.

"Luna and I wanted to invite you and Hermione over for dinner tonight." Rabastan said loudly, perhaps trying to assure Thorfinn that nothing odd was going on. "They seem to get on well, our two little ladies." Rabastan couldn't resist the waggle of his eyebrows.

Antonin nodded, knowing that the real reason was likely to discuss their plan some more. Now that they were getting into specifics, it probably wasn't safe any more to speak at the bar in detail. "We will be there." Though, he rolled at his eyes at the idea of Hermione or Luna being little _ladies._ Of course, they were both polite and well mannered, but neither of them behaved like a pureblood lady.

"If only we could convince Yaxley to find a wife as lovely as either of ours." Rabastan said proudly. For all of his joking, it was clear as day to Antonin that his friend was entirely smitten with the little blonde fairy that he'd married.

"You know that he won't." Antonin said, this time with a smile on his face. It was something that he was willing to bet on.

Rabastan smirked, knowing that it was true as well. The man had been burned by too many witches in the past, the latest being his wife of eight years. "Well, I can hope that my friend will one day be as happy as I am, but I suppose that's all I can do. See you at seven?"

Antonin ran through the rest of his day before nodding. Seven should be plenty of time to finish here and then clean up. "We will be there." He promised, excited to tell Hermione. Hopefully if they had a new plan for Lucius, she would stop moping about.

* * *

If it was possible, it seemed as though Hermione felt her failure more acutely while they were walking to Rabastan and Luna's home. No one but Antonin had known of her plan to discuss things with Ginny, so she didn't look forward to letting them know that things hadn't gone as expected.

Still, it gave her a new sense of purpose as she walked beside Antonin towards her friend's house. She promised herself that she would make a significant contribution, and promised that she would free herself from the regime that had stolen her from her parents when she was just a girl. If Antonin recognized the stubborn set of her jaw, he didn't mention it.

Rabastan and Luna's home took the form of a small cheery cottage, standing one storey tall. Hermione could already see bits of Luna's odd personality coming out in the form of the plants that decorated their window boxes. A small chimney on the side of the building puffed out thick smoke, making Hermione worry that everything was working correctly.

When they got inside and were thoroughly greeted by their hosts, Hermione realized that the unusual smoke was caused from the number of herbs that Luna had added to the fire. "It helps keep the nargles away." Luna said succinctly, when she noticed Hermione's wandering eyes. "And if we are going to do any planning this evening, we won't want to be disturbed."

Yaxley was already there, with a pink flush on his cheeks. "We were just discussing the first new child born here in our colony."

Hermione hadn't realized that Arthur would have been the first child born from the filles, and therefore the first child born in the colony. It still didn't explain why Reuben would look _quite_ so uncomfortable. "Do you not like children, Reuben?" She asked, taking a seat next to him on the couch.

Reuben's blush only darkened if possible. "No, it's not the children that I mind. Mrs. Lestrange was just describing to me the process women must go through in order to get the child."

She giggled at that. How had he gone through so much life and didn't know about birth? "I understand that it is a very rewarding process. You get something so wonderful at the end, all the pain melts away." Antonin came and sat on the other side of her, his long legs looking entirely out of place on such a small piece of furniture.

The blond man just rounded the conversation back on her, to Hermione's embarrassment. "And what about you, Mrs. Dolohov? Are you eager for a child of your own?"

Hermione looked down in her lap, a barrage of emotions welling up inside of her. Of course, she'd always wanted to be a mother, but for so long she thought it would never be a possibility. And now, though she was growing...fond of Antonin, it wasn't something they'd ever talked about. In fact, she'd still been under the impression that they were going to go their separate ways at the end of their first year of marriage.

Had he told his friends about their little arrangement? She couldn't imagine that he had. Further, she didn't want to embarrass him by bringing it up or trapping him with a child. She had no idea if he wanted a child of his own, and it would be wrong to make a pronouncement either way without discussing it first.

In any case, it wasn't as though it would be happening any time soon. You still had to have sex in order to have a child, and they hadn't engaged since their wedding night. No matter how much Hermione had wanted to again. Heated thoughts and dreams of passion haunted her at the most inopportune moments, and she was never really sure how to bring it up with him. She didn't want to ruin their fragile and fledgling relationship by asking for more than he was willing to give.

When she realized she hadn't answered yet, and Antonin watching her intensely, she was forced to answer. "Oh, I haven't really thought about it yet."

Thankfully, Hermione was saved from further questioning this time by a loud bang from in the kitchen. The two men jumped up, wands drawn, only to see Rabastan holding a large bottle. "Oh, put those away! It's just a little champagne from France! To celebrate!" The lithe man poured out five glasses of equal measure before handing them out.

"What are we celebrating?" Yaxley asked, the only one willing to admit that he was confused by the festivities.

"To the death of my brother!" Rabastan said, raising his glass in a toast, before swallowing all of the sparkling liquid in one gulp.

"Rodolphus is dead?" Antonin asked, his thick eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Had the colony's saboteur struck again?

"As good as!" Rabastan said cheerfully. "Come, sit down so that I can explain." Hermione took her seat while Luna placed a large plate on the table. To her immense joy, it turned out to be pork roast, if her sense of smell could be relied upon. She was thankful. Venison was good, but after a while one got sick of eating the same thing over and over.

"I found out that Rodolphus and Alecto Carrow are having an affair." Rabastan said, rubbing his hands together like a gleeful child. "They meet every Tuesday evening."

"Who is Alecto Carrow?" Hermione asked, unsure of who all the key players in the colony were.

"She was the only female Death Eater sent over here. She's meant to get married to Walden McNair, but they've been betrothed for nearly a decade, so who knows if they are going to follow through." Rabastan said, his excitement bubbling up, causing him to speak almost too fast for Hermione to understand.

"That's...unfortunate, I suppose." Hermione settled on, unsure of how affairs were viewed in the Death Eater circles. "But how does that help us with the Rodolphus issue."

"Because the Lestrange vows have very strict fidelity charms. The breaking of which, can cause death." Luna said in that dreamy way of hers. Hermione was surprised to learn that there were any such charms to ensure fidelity. Hermione wondered if the Dolohovs had anything similar, and she tried not to feel hurt that he hadn't wanted to include her in his life in such a way. It was as though she wasn't his real wife.

"They obviously don't have great geographic range or he'd already be dead." Rabastan said, gleefully. "But no one else knows that."

"So we just have to catch them in the act, off him and keep her quiet?" Yaxley asked, suspicious that it would be so easy.

"No, _I_ will catch him in the act, and _I_ will kill him and her, so she isn't an issue." Rabastan said with vicious glee. Hermione was a bit disturbed that hatred for his brother would extend so deeply.

Antonin scratched at the beard on his face, musing silently. "That would definitely work. You have to be sure you aren't the one to find them, though, or if you do, that you aren't alone. As his heir, you have the most to gain from his death."

Hermione couldn't restrain her curiosity any further. "Are you sure you will be able to do it? He is your brother after all."

Rabastan gave her a predatory grin, showing off sharp white teeth. "I have dreamed of this moment since I was thirteen. All it will be is a little whispered spell and he'll finally be gone."

She tried to hide her gasp, and she felt Antonin squeeze her leg under the table. She was reminded just how awful magic could be if used with the wrong intentions. It felt like a weight in her stomach to realize how easy it would be to kill someone. She'd read about all the Unforgivables, after all.

Rabastan, perhaps unaware of her mood, topped off everyone's glasses with the remaining champagne before thrusting his arm up in the air. "Cheers!"

* * *

The days to the planned killing of Rodolphus weighed heavily on Hermione's mind, and she found herself distracted more often than not while she was working around the cabin. She knew that Rodolphus was likely a terrible man, it still felt serious. Like it would change everything in the little microcosm they lived in.

One day, while she was wandering around their plot of land, Hermione decided to follow the tree line towards town for a ways. Antonin had recently begun drawing her a map of how things were set up, so she could find her way around. He preferred if she would wait for him if she had to go somewhere, but he also recognized that he couldn't keep her cooped up all the time. And, after much pleading, he had finally agreed to try to teach her to apparate herself.

The forest always made her hair stand on end. There were always odd sounds and the wind rustling through the drying leaves sounded like a death rattle. Still, following the tiny clear cut path that connected her home to the village was the best way to keep a course.

Looking ahead through the trees, though, she finally noticed a hulking figure walking away from her. She doubled her steps, wondering just who it was who would be so far from the village. Squinting her eyes, she realized that it was Fenrir Greyback. Sucking in her gasp of surprise, Hermione didn't even think twice about following him.

After all, the only reason that they were able to deal with Rodolphus was because they learned his habits. Surely, if she followed him, she would be able to learn something, maybe even get something that they could use against him.

She followed many paces behind him, wanting to make sure that no twig snap or sudden movement would give her away, and Fenrir seemed blissfully unaware of his follower. She cursed her long dress; the back and forth swishing of the fabric seemed deafening compared to the sounds of the forest. When he came to the confluence of several paths, he stopped for a moment, before choosing the one to the south.

Hermione didn't know where that went, but decided to follow anyway, confident that she would remember how to get back. To her dismay, the trees seemed to be thicker, branches reaching out like arms to hold her back, until she was positive that this wasn't even a path any more. Her heart was beating fast and wild, and she was sure that someone would be able to hear it if they got close enough.

She watched as Fenrir's form was lost behind a bend and she hastened to follow him, so as not to loose her quarry. To her utter dismay, he was nowhere to be found when she got past the bend.

Stopping, Hermione looked around, trying to calm her nerves. She had no idea where she was, though, and panic was setting in. Letting out a panicked whine, she felt little tears prickle at her eyes. How could she have been so stupid?

Without warning, two broad arms pulled her against a firm body. "Were you spying on me, little kitten?" A throaty voice whispered into her ear, her body violently shivering at the unpleasant sensation. He laughed, but turned her around to face him.

Seeing the very man she was trying to follow, Hermione shook her head from side to side, too frightened to speak. Her wand was held tightly in her grasp, but she was certain that she wouldn't be able to even speak the words to stun him.

His blue eyes looked over her body and he caught his lower lip in between savage teeth, as though he was barely able to contain himself. "Don't lie, kitten. Why do you think I led you this far away from the village?" He asked, before dipping his head to whisper in her ear again. "I could smell your delicious scent the whole time. Here's a hint, kitten. Don't walk down wind from a predator."

She shuddered, her mind spinning with all the possibilities. What was he going to do with her now that he got her alone? How had she been so stupid to fall right into his trap. Of course he was intelligent enough of a hunter to realize that she was following him. And now, she was all alone and no one knew where she was. If she ran, she was positive that she would only become more turned around. "Please, don't hurt me." She choked out, not wanting to bargain with him, but seeing little other option.

"Dolohov should take better care of his things." Greyback said, his head cocked to the side. He reached out and pulled one of her errant curls. "I did warn him after all."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I will just get on with the show today after the cliffhanger.

Please let me know what you thought about chapter thirteen and be on the lookout for chapter fourteen soon!

* * *

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut unwilling to face the werewolf. She didn't want to see him looking at her any longer, and she certainly didn't want him to see the tears in her eyes. In her mind, she apologized to Antonin, for being so brash, so foolhardy, to follow the werewolf into the forest, but there was nothing that she could do now. Would he ever forgive her? Would he ever even find her?

Would he assume that she'd grown tired with their marriage and run away to escape?

A tear rolled free from her eye, and she felt one of Greyback's clawed fingers wiping away at the liquid. She was shaking like a leaf.

" _Incarcerous!_ " The hissed curse came as a complete shock to Hermione, her eyes opening in surprise, only to see Antonin's form over the werewolf. She was about to reach for him, wanted him to wrap her up in his embrace, only to have Antonin shove her behind him, so that he was standing between her and Greyback.

Hermione heard the sound of the ropes snapping and before her eyes, Greyback was already back up on his feet. "You can't blame me, Dolohov." He said with a sadistic grin. "She was practically begging for it, following me out here." Hermione shuddered, wanting to shout at the top of her lungs that it wasn't true, but she was powerless.

Before she knew it, a duel had broken out between the two men. Antonin quickly gained the upper hand, mostly operating on pure fury. Curse after curse had him pushing the man back, until finally, he knocked the werewolf back on his arse. " _Crucio_." Antonin said coldly, taking delight in the way the other man moaned and writhed in agony on the ground.

Hermione was shocked, having never seen the torture curse in person before, and was horrified that her husband was using an Unforgivable curse and that he _wasn't letting up_. She realized that she was crying, and she had to do something before Antonin hurt Greyback. As much as she hated Greyback, there would be questions asked, and she didn't want anything bad to happen to Antonin.

Stepping next to him, she placed her hand on his wand arm. "Please stop." She begged, tears shining in her brown eyes. Seeing her upset face seemed to calm the tall man, and he ended the spell, letting his arm drop.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before grabbing Hermione around the waist so that he could side along apparate her back home. When they arrived, Hermione looked around and saw them standing in their living room.

Antonin dropped her arm as though she scalded him, and Hermione could see the anger in his eyes bubbling up again. She knew that she was the cause of his irritation and she felt so _badly_ at having disappointed him. "I'm sorry." She cried, feeling like a scolded child.

"Why did you do that?" He gritted out between clenched teeth. "What would possess you to follow that _creature_?" Antonin paced back and forth in front of her. Didn't she understand that she was his to protect and he could have lost her today? He didn't even want to think on what despicable actions that Greyback had planned for them.

Hermione took a ragged breath, reality that she was okay and _safe_ with Antonin settling in. "I thought...we need information on him. On how to get rid of him." She could tell that Antonin wasn't impressed. "I just wanted to help."

"You don't help like that!" He shouted at her. Hermione flinched at his raised voice. "You don't go off on your own, on a whim. You plan things out. And you absolutely tell me what the plan is." He ran his hands through his hair. He couldn't identify when Hermione's well being became so crucial to his happiness, but he couldn't deny that it was.

Before he could think on it more, Hermione was rushing to him, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. "I'm sorry I worried you. I didn't mean to. I won't do it again. I promise." The words came spilling out of her mouth but she knew it was true. She hated to have Antonin disappointed in her.

But then, he was holding her back, just as tightly. Fiercely. He contented himself with the feeling of her in his arms, knowing that she was there with him. She looked up at him with those honest eyes, and he couldn't stop himself.

The first press of his lips against hers was firm and unyielding, forcing her to respond in kind. It was fine, because she wanted him as close to her has possible. Hermione parted her lips and welcomed him inside her to parry and thrust and meld. She couldn't help with quiet moan at the feel of him. It was like liquid heat.

When her tongue traced along the length of his own, Antonin needed more, needed her closer. Picking her up, he encouraged her to wrap her legs around his waist. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers pulling at his hair to hold him closer to her. He crossed the room quickly, setting her on the edge of the kitchen table.

He groaned at the feel of her perfect legs cradling his body against hers, and he knew he was hard as a rock. The steady rock of her hips though proved to him that she didn't mind in the slightest. He broke his mouth from hers and pressed wet, open kisses along her neck, settling at her rapid pulse point to suckle.

Her fingers made the first move, working to undo the buttons of his shirt and then pushing the fabric back over his shoulders. Her hands moved along the firm muscle of his chest, in a desperate attempt to touch as much of him as possible.

He fumbled with the laces at the front of her dress, though he quickly got distracted by the feel of her breast under his palm. His thumb rocked back and forth, surprised by the feel of a tight nipple below the layers of fabric. Feeling her fingers start with the fastening at his trouser, he tried to get back to the task at hand, but he couldn't figure out how to get her out of her dress fast enough. "Fuck!" He whispered, wishing that he paid more attention to how she got dressed in the morning.

Hermione took pity on him, and began pulling at her skirts, wiggling her bum to get all the fabric, and pulled the dress up over her head in one smooth motion, leaving her in a sheer shift. He groaned, able to see the form of her beautiful body under the thin fabric.

Pressing her back against the table, he pulled her hips until she was flush against him, his hands disappearing under the shift. He pressed her mouth against her breast, his tongue flicking the hard nipple until she was mewling so sweetly. Again, her hands buried themselves in his hair, wanting to keep him as close to her as possible.

Hermione's sex was positively throbbing by the time his large hand had teased up her thigh to investigate her folds. She was so wet that his fingers easily glided along, finding the little button at the top of her sex. One touch made her feel tingly all over, but the circular motion had her toes curling.

Still, she knew that she wanted more, and wasn't afraid to tell him so. "Please, Antonin." He stood straight, breaking away from her, staring down at her likely wanton face.

Her soft plea was enough for him and before she knew it he was shoving his trousers down, lining up his cock up with the slit between her legs. He searched her face for any hint of hesitation, but he obviously found none. He didn't think there could be with the ordeal that they'd both been through that day. The idea that they might be separated had asserted an intense need to be together.

She was shocked by the _full_ sensation when he entered her. Her body grasped at his when he pulled out, only to enter her again. Her eyes screwed shut under the intense feeling. It felt right, perfect even.

He grabbed one of her legs and pressed it close to her chest, the other leg wrapped firmly around his behind. Once a firm rhythm was established, Hermione couldn't stop her hips from rocking against his in time. Her cunt was aching in need. She needed more, she need him closer.

He seemed to know, and bent over, pressing his chest against hers, his mouth against hers, to tangle again. His tongue mimicked the action of his member, thrusting into her again and again until she was moaning against him, helpless to do anything but hold on.

The pleasure was building, thrust after thrust, until he pressed a hand between their bodies, seeking out that button at the top of her sex. Then, the dam was bursting, white light behind Hermione's eyes as she cried out, toes curling and holding him tight against her. She could feel her insides clench rhythmically around him.

A few more deep thrusts inside of her, and Antonin was finishing as well, collapsing against her body, panting.

Hermione smiled as she came down from her bliss, petting her fingers through his hair, giving him time to recover. Once his heartbeat had slowed, he stood, kissing her firmly on the lips. He righted her legs, letting them dangle over the edge of the table, and pulled her shift back over her hips.

She smiled shyly at him. When they'd consummated their vows, she had been too nervous to fully enjoy it. But now...well, if it was always like _that_ she could see herself wanting to do it again. And again.

* * *

Hermione and Antonin had settled into a shy contentment after they renewed their intimate relationship. Nothing more was said about Fenrir Greyback or what Antonin had done to him, instead enjoying a quiet afternoon together reading.

A knock on the front door startled him out of the pleasant reverie that they had been in, causing Antonin to jump up. Hermione could see from the set of his jaw that he was worried, nervous even. He answered the door and Hermione could immediately tell that he didn't like whoever it was at the door.

"Rosier. To what do I owe the unexpected visit?" While Antonin's words were polite, his tone was anything but. Hermione remembered Rosier from their wedding as he was the one who performed the bonding. She also knew that he was one of the four people that they were trying to get rid of. Could he be here on Greyback's behalf? Because of the way Antonin had used an Unforgivable Curse?

The older man gave Antonin a sly look. "Won't you invite me in? This isn't something we can exactly talk about out in the open." Antonin stepped aside and let Rosier in, before leading him to the kitchen table.

Hermione stood from the couch, before walking quickly into the kitchen. "I'll just make some tea." She said, before filling the kettle.

Rosier gave her a leer. "I see you've trained your mudblood well, Dolohov." His voice oozed praise for Hermione's supposedly servile nature. "She doesn't give you too much trouble does she? Serves you in every way a wife should?" Hermione could practically feel his eyes on her form from behind her.

"Yes." Antonin's answer was curt and to the point. Hermione had learned over the months of their marriage that he was an intensely private man, barely talking about their relationship with his two best friends. She doubted that he would go blabbing about it to someone like Rosier. "Now, why are you here?"

"Rodolphus Lestrange was found dead this morning." Rosier came right out and said it, without preamble. Hermione gasped from her spot by the kettle. Rosier laughed at her reaction. "I forgot we had such naive little ears listening."

Hermione blushed and poured three cups of tea, floating them over to the table, before taking her seat next to Antonin. "That is a surprise. Any indication of what happened to him?" Antonin asked, his voice even and calm, even though Hermione knew he knew what fate had _actually_ befallen the man.

She supposed that Rabastan had finally gotten what he wanted.

"Well, considering that he was found with his cock up Alecto Carrow, and she's dead as well, we figured it was something to do with the vows." Evan said, looking at his fingers, picking at imaginary dirt.

"Have you asked Rabastan? Surely, he would be able to tell you." Antonin thought introducing Rabastan in this way would lead to the least amount of suspicion. It wasn't as though Rabastan had inserted himself.

Rosier gave a mean little smile. "Not yet. No one really cares for the _specifics_ and it's not why I am here. Rodolphus's _untimely_ death means that there is a spot open on our little council to keep things running smoothly. As you know, he speaks for the rest of the Death Eaters in the colony."

Antonin looked confused. "Perhaps Rabastan would be best suited to take over Rodolphus's duties. He maybe spoke with his brother about them."

"Actually, your name came up." Rosier said. Silence seemed to stretch endless between the two men. Antonin couldn't believe that anyone would actually suggest him. Sure, he was known to be...well, not a good man, but...he could be counted on to get things done. But to serve on the council? "Rowle put your name up for consideration, as did Avery. Malfoy and I discussed it and we think that despite your unfortunate circumstances" - his eyes drifted over Hermione now -"you could still be an asset to the colony in this capacity."

For once, Antonin wished that Rosier would leave so he could discuss this decision with Hermione. It wasn't as though he could think of a reason to turn down the offer. It would raise suspicion. Really, anyone should be jumping for joy at the offer.

But, it still rankled him that his half-blood status and muggleborn wife - who had been foisted on him by those two very men! - was somehow seen as something that would potentially hold him back. That some kind of _exception_ had to be made for him.

Seeing that Rosier was waiting, Antonin took a deep breath and gave an answer. "I suppose I must accept. It will be a great honor to represent my brothers to the council."

Rosier seemed pleased with the answer and held out his hand for Antonin to shake. He hesitantly took the other man's hand, the argument clearly not worth it. Hermione wondered just how her husband could take the hand of someone he clearly didn't respect, but she also didn't comment on it.

"Well, for your first order of business, I have this for you." He reached into the interior pocket of his cloak before pulling out a gilded envelope, handing it over to Antonin. "This is for tomorrow evening. Make sure that you arrive on time and that your mudblood is properly attired."

To Hermione's joy, it seemed that Rosier wasn't particularly thrilled to stay in the Dolohov's cabin any longer, and he quickly made his exit after Antonin accepted the envelop. Hermione was dying to know what was inside of it, any way, so she wanted to man to leave so she could ask Antonin what it was.

Once they heard the pop of apparition away, he handed Hermione the open envelop. "Lord Malfoy invites you to dinner with his wife, Lady Malfoy, and son." She read aloud. She snorted after she saw the beautiful calligraphy. This was ridiculous. "Wow, Ginny has really let things go to her head." She mused.

Antonin looked deep in thought, and didn't comment on her musing. Hermione continued to read over the letter. They were expected at precisely six thirty, and formal dress was required. That made her a bit nervous. She didn't really know what constituted formal dress, and while she thought that Ginny might forgive her shortcomings, she didn't think that Malfoy would. Hermione didn't want to embarrass her husband right after he'd been asked to sit on the council. "Will you help me choose something appropriate to wear for tomorrow?" She asked him, finally getting his attention.

He gave her a crooked smile. "Of course I will help you." Their newfound intimacy was still fresh in their minds, and he couldn't help but tease her about it. "It will be good practice next time I need to get you out of a dress."

Hermione blushed, but couldn't deny that a pool of heat settled in her belly. Oh, she couldn't help but remember how lovely his fingers felt on her skin. The hot press of his lips on her breasts.

Shaking her head, she sat back down next to him, grabbing one of his hands between hers. "Are you worried about this appointment?" She asked, wondering what it was that made him hesitate to accept.

He shrugged. "Well, I am not fond of Malfoy and Rosier." He started. "And I can't believe that they selected me. I am not exactly on the top of the heap in social hierarchy."

She hated that he was made to feel any less than what he was. "You heard him, you were selected by your peers." She nibbled on her lower lip. "Do you think that...Greyback will cause any trouble?"

Antonin snorted. "No, I am at least above _him_ in the hierarchy and Malfoy finds him just as distasteful as I do. My word definitely is above his."

"But you used an Unforgivable against him!" Hermione couldn't help but add, the memory of the werewolf's cries still fresh in her mind.

Her husband gave a bitter laugh. "Of course I did. I'm a bloody Death Eater Hermione. It wouldn't shock a single man here. They have all used each Unforgivable in the past. We fought in a revolution after all."

Hermione didn't particularly like that answer, but she could see how little it bothered him. She was obviously stepping into a world that she didn't understand the rules of. But, if she had Antonin she knew that she could learn to navigate this new world.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! It means so much to me! Glad you are enjoying the way that their relationship is progressing. This chapter has a HUGE surprise in it, so I am desperate to hear what you thought. Hope you like where I went with it. You can follow me on tumblr, nauticalparamour, where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter fourteen and be on the lookout for chapter fifteen soon!

* * *

Getting ready for the Malfoy dinner took Hermione much longer while Antonin was assisting her. It started after breakfast when he drew her a bath in the tiny bathroom and insisted on helping her get clean, though she was sure that he just wanted to look at her naked. He at one point even thought about climbing into the bathtub with her, but it was nearly too small for Hermione to fit in, so she was positive that they both wouldn't make it.

He groused, vowing to create a charm that would extend the size of the bathtub without being noticeable from the outside. Hermione had laughed before waving her hand at him, pushing him out of the room and locking the door behind him. Without his interference - _assistance_ \- she was able to finish bathing in just a few minutes.

He was still growling at her treatment of him when she got out of the tub; she knew he was just teasing though, as he easily could have gotten through the door if he was actually upset. He bathed after her and in the time that he did, Hermione had managed to tame her normally bushy hair into elegant waves.

Antonin had left the bathroom, just a towel around his waist, completely distracting her from the task at hand. She thought that might just have been his plan all along. "You should wear your hair up. It is considered improper for married women to have their hair down."

Hermione blinked at him in surprise. Suddenly the braided intricacies that Luna wore in her long blonde locks made much more sense. "Why haven't you told me this before?" Hermione demanded. She always wore her hair down, unless she was in the garden or doing a lot of cleaning. When they went to the pub or over to Rabastan and Luna's house, she'd always had her hair down.

Antonin came to stand behind her, pushing all her hair over to one side. He pressed open mouthed kisses against her neck. "Because I prefer you with your hair down."

She shivered at the feel of his lips, but pulled away. "I know, but now everyone must think that I am some kind of harlot." She whined. She didn't want any of _her_ actions to reflect negatively on Antonin.

"Who cares what anyone else thinks?" Antonin asked, his confidence assured from years of always being treated as an outsider, no matter what he did to fit in. "You are my wife, and you can do whatever you want."

Hermione considered his words. Obviously now he was an important wizard in the colony, so she supposed that he might do as he liked. As his wife, then, she could also do as she liked. "Well, what I would like to do right now is get dressed so we aren't late for dinner."

Antonin helped Hermione go through all of her dresses before finally settling on one. Hermione was surprised because the fabric was not as sumptuous as the dress that should would have picked out, with its floral, silk pattern. No, Antonin had selected something she'd made while she was here in the colony, made of a soft brushed flannel. "The cut is much more in fashion right now than the other one. They will understand that we have limited supplies here, and that means practical fabrics. But, the cut of the dress should be in fashion."

She was glad that she had him to assist her, because she was certain she would have worn the other dress and likely made a fool of herself. Getting the dress on was a bit more difficult, as Antonin insisted on taking his time figuring out how the laces up the front worked. He must have undone her fastener about twenty times, figuring out the best way to push the two sides together, so that all the tiny hooks holding it together came apart at the same time. She was certain now that he would be able to undress her in less than a minute.

Finally, she had to swat his hands away and fasten everything up herself, and send him to his side of the room to put a shirt on to go with his trousers. He also picked a flannel shirt, his pants held up with leather suspenders.

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed and was about to put her thick woolen socks on, when he took the pair out of her hand. Kneeling on the ground in front of her, Antonin grabbed her bare food and began sliding the sock up her leg, his fingers tracing the bare skin of her calves as he worked. She shuddered when he let one hand continue its journey, past her knee, to the hot flesh of her inner thigh.

She snapped her legs together, trapping his hand, knowing that if she let him continue, she would find out _exactly_ how long it took him to undress her. Groaning, Antonin dropped his head in her lap. "Are you certain that you want to go to this dinner? We could just stay here." He offered.

Giggling, she shook her head. "No, I don't particularly want to have dinner, but they have just invited you to be a part of the council and it would be foolish for you not to attend." Sometimes, she wished that she wasn't quite so practical.

Antonin knew that she was right, though, so he summoned her brown boots and slipped them on her feet, taking his time to lace up each one tightly. It had already begun to frost outside, so he knew that he would be apparating them over, but he still didn't want Hermione to be cold.

Knowing that they couldn't put it off any longer, they climbed down the ladder and secured their cloaks. Antonin took a moment to stare at his lovely wife. She was so beautiful now, done up like a proper pureblood lady, not a hair out of place. But still, he thought she was more beautiful when she was curled up on their couch, hair messy and not a hint of a cosmetic charm on her face.

Holding out his arm for her to take it, he sighed. "Ready to go?"

Hermione nodded, with a smile, and in a pop, their warm little cabin disappeared.

* * *

The Malfoy's house seemed even bigger than last time that Hermione had visited, and she wondered internally if he had expanded the house or if it was just a charm to make it seem larger? It was imposing, the only cheeriness in the whole facade was the brightly burning candle to the side of the door, perhaps to show visitors where to go when they arrived.

Antonin knocked on the door and they waited out in the cold for a few moments. Hermione could already feel the tip of her nose getting pink, and she hoped that it would come off as a pleasant blush and not a shivering girl. She was sure that her cheeks were just as rosy.

Just when her husband was getting annoyed and about to knock on the heavy wooden door a second time, the door swung open, revealing the most peculiar little creature. Hermione fought not to stare at its huge eyes and flopping ears. It was wearing rags, which she found abhorrent, but before she could say anything it was ushering them in.

"Moppy be taking your cloaks." It said, practically cowering away from them, but with it's arms extended to take both of their cloaks.

Hermione hesitantly gave hers to the creature before turning to look at Antonin. "What is that? And why is it so afraid of us?"

"It's a house elf." Antonin said, distracted. "The Malfoys aren't known for treating their house elves well, so it is just afraid of all wizards."

Hermione huffed, but before she could ask more about it, the house elf was back and ushering them into a formal dining room. Hermione could hear laughter, but it sounded like there were several voices that she didn't recognize. Entering the room, she saw that her suspicions were confirmed. Rosier was there, as was Lucius, but they were accompanied by two other blonds. A gorgeous woman and a young man who was the spitting image of Lucius.

Schooling her face, Hermione's mind was racing, trying to figure out where Ginny was. And little Arthur! "Ah, Antonin, perhaps you remember my niece, Narcissa? She and her son are visiting the colony for a few days." Rosier began making instructions for the newly arrived pair.

Hermione pushed herself forward to kiss the woman on each cheek, even though from her sour expression, Hermione could tell that she certainly didn't like it.

Lucius then pushed the young man forward. "Allow me to introduce to you my heir, Draco."

Antonin shook Draco's hand, but Hermione was too stunned to do anything. She felt a sinking in her stomach as she put two and two together. They weren't having dinner tonight with Ginny. Had Antonin known that Lucius had another wife? And Rosier. He said Narcissa was his niece...of course, he knew about Ginny.

The young man sneered at her, refusing to take her hand. "The mudblood doesn't even have the manners to properly greet her superiors." He brushed a bit of imaginary lint from his fine robes, before leering at her body. "Though she does make up for it with her looks."

Antonin wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her close against him. It was nice that Antonin was so protective of her, but she wished that she was able to do something to the snotty looking boy called Draco.

Instead, she allowed Antonin to lead her to the table, where they were seated for dinner, while Rosier went on and on about how some of the filles du roi were good pureblood girls, but every now and then an odd mudblood found her way to the colony. Hermione was clenching her jaw, again wanting to shout to the roof tops that she wanted nothing to do with the filles du roi program.

Every time that she glanced over at Lucius and Narcissa, they were giving each other such lovey dovey eyes that it made Hermione sick. She couldn't get the thought of Ginny out of her mind. Ginny, who had been so happy married to Lucius. Where was Ginny at the moment, anyway? Antonin would squeeze her leg under the table every time that she thought she was about to snap. He was doing most of the talking for her anyway. Hermione could hardly focus on what they were talking about, until she heard a familiar name come up.

Antonin cleared his throat. "I know it is not exactly proper dinner conversation, but we need to do something about Greyback." If he was on this new council, Antonin decided, he was going to do everything he could to get rid of the werewolf.

"What has he done this time?" Lucius asked, exasperated. Antonin knew that Malfoy more often than not ended up acting as keeper to the uncouth man.

"He has bothered Hermione now several times. A few days ago, he cornered her while she was walking home alone. If I hadn't been there, I don't know what he would have done to her." His dark eyes swept around the table, looking for obvious dissent. "Now, I know that you might think less of Hermione because she is muggleborn, but she is _my wife_ and I won't allow her to be treated that way. Send Greyback back to England, or I will kill him."

His promise made Hermione gasp. She hadn't realized that his feelings on the werewolf were quite so serious. Obviously he was a problem, but she was still hung up on taking someone else's life.

"Can we sustain the colony without his help hunting?" Evan asked, not wanting to starve to death if they sent their number one hunter home. That was his only hang up, as no one particularly liked the werewolf. He wasn't their friend.

Antonin had an answer for this too. He wasn't about to suggest something so drastic without having proof to back it up. "Yes, I've run some calculations and we have enough to get us through the winter. Our harvests should be able to sustain the colony even if we didn't catch a single rabbit all spring." Game was plentiful in the spring, once the snows had melted.

"I have always trusted your calculations, Dolohov." Malfoy said with a smile. "It's true that Greyback has caused more than one problem for our humble colony. I will write to the Dark Lord myself."

With that settled, Rosier proposed a toast to their new council, who got along so swimmingly.

* * *

After dinner, Hermione was unable to contain her curiosity any longer. She could no longer sit around and pretend as though Ginny wasn't Lucius's wife. When the retired to the sitting room for after dinner cocktails, Hermione whispered in Antonin's ear that she was going to have a walk about the grounds.

He gave her a look, as though warning her not to do anything foolish. It made her heart sink to know that this likely meant that he had known about Narcissa and hadn't said a single thing. None of the other guests were concerned when she got up and left the room. After all, who would care what a mudblood was up to?

She didn't bother with her cloak, needing the crisp evening air to focus her mind. She walked around the house once, her quick steps crunching the leaves beneath her feet. Nothing about the house seemed out of the ordinary, except it seemed so much more imposing than usual. When she got to the back side, though, she noticed a light on in the little barn that the Malfoys kept.

Walking her way over to it, she pushed the door open with trepidation. Looking inside, Hermione was unsurprised to find Ginny and Arthur huddled in a pile of hay, with several animals lying down around them.

The beautiful redhead had tear tracks down her cheeks, and Hermione quickly ran to her side. "Ginny, what is it? What's happened?"

"Oh, you've been to the house, you know!" Ginny spat out, bitterness seeping out of her body. "Lucius was already married and he has a son older than I am. He's warded Arthur and I out here in this barn and that horrid little house elf has been bringing me food every now and again."

Hermione bit her lip. She'd read quite a bit about ward magic, but she didn't know how to dismantle it. "I am so sorry, Ginny. I wish that I could free you from here." She plopped down in the hay with Ginny, opening her arms to take little Arthur from her.

Ginny gladly handed over her son, who had been exceedingly fussy the last few days. Well, who wouldn't be if they were trapped in a barn? "Don't be sorry, it's all my fault." Ginny moaned. "I thought my life was so perfect. I got everything I wanted. It was like a fairy tale. I should have known that there would be an evil witch involved."

Hermione giggled at that. "Narcissa does seem like an evil witch." She agreed. The whole night, the other woman had obviously been annoyed to be hosting a muggleborn in her home. "But really, you should be mad at Lucius."

Ginny smiled. "Oh, I am spitting mad at Lucius! He never should have taken another wife if he already had one! How could he treat me this way?" She began to cry again, feeling as though she would be swallowed up by her stupidity. "And Arthur is his son, no matter what. He's just a _baby_. He's done nothing wrong."

Hermione looked down at the baby in her arms, who was slowly calming down. With his pointy little features and strawberry blond hair there was no denying who his father was. His eyes were also a slate grey - obviously a trait that the Malfoys shared. "You are right. He's innocent." She gave her pinky finger for the little boy to grab onto.

"I am so mad, Hermione!" Ginny said, unable to hold back a little scream. "I am going to kill the bastard."

Hermione froze. Was Ginny serious about this? It could be the answer to their problems. "Are you serious Ginny?" She felt as though her heart would explode out of her chest.

"Yes, I will...I don't know, shove a pillow over his face while he is sleeping. All I have been doing out here has been plotting his death."

Hermione wet her lips. "What if I told you, there was a group of interested people who wanted to help you...take Lucius out of the picture?" She asked cautiously, unable to meet Ginny's eye.

"I would say that we are in business." Ginny said confidently. There was no way that she was going to change her mind about Lucius. He had treated her worse than dirt, like a barn animal and she wasn't going to stand for it.

The brunette was excited, her mind already whirring through plans. She couldn't wait to tell Antonin and the others. "We will come up with something...and I will let you know when we do. We must wait a while, though, to avoid suspicion."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked. She couldn't imagine sleeping in the same bed as that monster for a single night.

"If Lucius dies now, people will suspect that you had something to do with it. So many people must know that Narcissa is visiting the colony." Hermione said quickly. She handed Arthur back to his mother. "They will think you killed him in a jealous rage. If we wait awhile, things will have appeared to go back to normal, people won't find his death suspicious."

Ginny nodded. She supposed that sounded like a reasonable plan, even if it didn't give her immediate gratification. As long as she got to be the one to kill Lucius in the end though, she could wait.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Glad that you enjoyed my little plot twist! Things will be picking up the pace from now on. You can follow me on tumblr if you'd like (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter fifteen and be on the lookout for chapter sixteen soon!

* * *

Hermione was too exhausted to argue with Antonin when she returned from the dinner party. She hadn't forgotten that he'd likely known about Narcissa and that he hadn't ever thought to bring it up. She had too much on her mind, though, including that her plan to get rid of Lucius now had wheels that Ginny was on board.

The next morning, though, she wasn't doing to just let it slide. "Why didn't you say anything?" She asked him sharply, after he'd finished his breakfast and had obviously been lulled into a false sense of security about the confrontation. "About Lucius having another wife?"

Antonin winced immediately, obviously wishing that he didn't need to participate in this conversation. "I don't know. I didn't think it was any of my business." Antonin had figured that Lucius must have gotten permission from King Voldemort if he took a wife, especially with Rosier and Rodolphus's knowledge. He didn't think it was his job to stick his nose in things that didn't involve him.

"I could have told Ginny!" She looked at him with wild eyes. "You don't have some secret wife in England do you?" Hermione couldn't pinpoint when the idea of Antonin being with another woman made her feel physically ill, but she couldn't stomach the thought. What if she was just his wife here in the colony and he had some beautiful, pureblood wife back home like Narcissa Malfoy?

Luckily, Antonin reacted with such vehemence that she knew he was telling the truth. "Absolutely not. I would never do that to you." He pushed his hands through his hair, shaking his head in disgust. "I am a one witch man." A small smile played on his face when he saw her soften.

"Anyone else I know have a wife? Should I warn Luna?" Hermione couldn't imagine that Rabastan had another wife, but she wanted to be certain.

Antonin shook his head. "No, Rabastan doesn't have a wife in England. But, Yaxley does. So if he gets married that means she's finally dead."

"Antonin!" Hermione scolded. "It's not nice to say such things about your friend's wife."

"It's alright. He can't stand her, and neither can I." Antonin sighed. "He was one of the only people excited about moving to the colony...said he could leave his wife behind." It was true that Antonin hadn't exactly been thrilled about colonizing a completely new land that he knew little about. There weren't any other wizards around for hundreds of miles.

"That's sad. Why did he marry her if he didn't love her?" Hermione asked, feeling that people should be allowed to marry who they wanted. Perhaps she had forgotten how her own marriage had come to be because Antonin just gave her a pointed look, perhaps indicating that their marriage was also not one of love. Only…

Things could change, couldn't they?

A beat of silence passed between them before she remembered that she had more to talk about. "In any case, can we have a meeting? Ginny is spitting mad and she promised to help us."

"You talked to her again?" Antonin questioned, his tone obviously annoyed that she had gone off on her own once again without permission. She wanted to scream at him that she didn't need his permission to talk to her friends, but she knew he was just worried about their plans being discovered.

"Well, she brought it up. She told me she was going to kill Lucius." Hermione pushed her long hair out of her face. "And it wasn't hyperbole. I said interested parties could assist her, and help remove suspicion from her."

"Perhaps you should have just let her do it." Antonin murmured. "It would have been one less thing for us to worry about."

Hermione huffed. "Oh really! And just what would have happened to poor Ginny? And little Arthur?" She could only imagine the terrible fate that could have befallen her friend if she acted alone and without thinking.

Antonin looked sheepish. Perhaps he hadn't thought that through either. "Alright, I will let the others know while we are out today." He agreed, before leaving the kitchen to get ready for the day.

"What are you doing today?" Hermione asked, calling up into the lofted bedroom. Her husband had his hands in so many things, she was endlessly fascinated about what he worked on. She wondered if he wouldn't be doing as much physical labor now that he was on the council.

"Collecting apples." Antonin called back down. Hermione was endlessly amused at the idea of her husband picking apples. "We have all been working on it because the frosts have started. Then, maybe later, collect a bit of firewood."

Back on the main level of the cabin, Hermione didn't have to hide the silly look on her face at that idea of her husband chopping firewood with an axe like a muggle. She knew that he likely used magic, but it couldn't stop the fantasy from crossing her mind.

* * *

Rabastan and Luna had offered to have them over for dinner again, so Hermione found herself walking with her husband to their tiny cottage again. They met Yaxley along the way, and Hermione walked a few steps behind the two friends so that they could catch up. She knew that Antonin didn't go to the pub as often as he had before he married her, and she didn't think it was right if he was neglecting his friend.

When the entered the cheery little cabin, Hermione was greeted with the smell of apples, and noticed that Luna sat at the dinner table, pressing cut up apple pieces, and pressing them until she squeezed every last drop out, while Rabastan looked on fondly. "What are you doing Luna?" Hermione asked, plucking up one of the slices and taking a bite before anyone could protest. It had been nearly a year since she'd last eaten an apple.

"I'm trying to make apple cider." Luna said with her usual dreamy voice. "Father and I used to make it quite frequently, before I was taken away. I think with a bit of luck, this batch might end up alcoholic as well."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, thinking that surely there must be a specified process to ferment it if she wanted it to be alcoholic, not luck. Rabastan batted her hand away when she tried to take a second apple slice, only to have Antonin glare at him.

"Well, come on then, you can all help press the apples while we talk." Rabastan said, a wave of his wand replicating the presses that Luna was using. Antonin looked nonplussed about being asked to do this, but when he saw Hermione join in, he shrugged his shoulders and began working as well.

With five sets of hands instead of one, not to mention three men who were considerably stronger, the pile of remaining apple slices disappeared and they were left with a large container of apple cider. "Are you going to tell us why you called us here, Hermione?" Luna finally asked, looking at her with her head cocked to the side. "Does it have to do with Ginny?"

Hermione shook her head, wondering just how Luna knew that Ginny was involved. "Yes, it actually does have to do with Ginny. Antonin and I had dinner last night with Malfoy, his wife and son...only to realize he has a _different_ wife and son in England. They had warded Ginny and Arthur into the barn like an animal." Hermione said, becoming a bit choked up over the treatment of her friend.

Luna gasped, but the two other men didn't seem too surprised to learn about Narcissa and Draco, making Hermione a bit angry again. She couldn't believe that not even one of them had said anything about it. "Anyway, Ginny is obviously upset, and she wants to help get rid of Lucius." Hermione decided that she would apologize for talking about it with Ginny because none of them had said anything about Narcissa.

Yaxley stiffened. "How do you know she is serious and it wasn't just said out of anger?" He asked, practically.

"Yes, I don't like the man, but Malfoy is incredibly charming." Rabastan continued. "What if he has Ginny wrapped around his finger again a week after Narcissa leaves and then she tells him about us?"

Hermione saw their point, and knew that they were just being cautious. "Well, she only knows about me, no one else." She assured them first. Ginny might assume Antonin was involved, but none of the others should be obvious. "And I saw her. She was serious and she isn't changing her mind. She promised me."

"I trust Hermione." Luna said. "She would know Ginny best." Hermione was grateful for her friend, but it did put into stark clearness that Hermione didn't really know Ginny well at all. Still, she just knew her in heart that the redhead could be trusted.

Reuben nodded. "She would be able to slip him a potion quite easily. I am sure that she prepares all of his food and she would have access to any liquids that Lucius might consume."

"Do you have the ingredients here for such a potion?" Antonin asked, eager to have Lucius taken care of. Yaxley was the best potioneer out of the three of them, so he was confident in his friends abilities.

"I will have to review some books." Reuben said, rubbing a hand over his face. "I don't have all the potions ingredients here, so we will have to send for some from England, but not in any combination that would tip off Rosier what I was intending to make." Already, his mind was running through his own stores and what he could find here locally.

"Can I help?" Hermione asked, meekly. "I am very good at following directions and I have mastered numerous household potions." She felt silly to be asking, especially without discussing it with Antonin first. It was just that she'd read so many of the potions manuals that Antonin had and she was itching to try something a bit more complicated.

Reuben looked her over, lips pursed, as though trying to determine why she would assist him. "I don't see why you couldn't. Antonin can apparate you to mine, and look completely useless while we are brewing." He teased his old friend. Rabastan laughed, knowing that Antonin's forte had _never_ been potions. He'd been surprised to even get an Exceeds Expectations on his potions NEWT.

"Well, that takes care of Lucius then." Luna said astutely. "So we have two others to worry about. Greyback and Rosier." Luna didn't care for either of the two, but Rosier was the one who frightened her more. Greyback had painfully obvious motivations, whereas Rosier was a bit of a wild card.

"Greyback won't be a problem." Antonin said darkly. "Malfoy was writing to the King and they have agreed to send Fenrir back to England in two days time." He was glad that the werewolf wouldn't be around to bother Hermione any more.

"You've only been on the council for one day!" Rabastan said, surprised. "How on Earth did you get them to agree to that?" Had Rabastan been asked to be a part of the council, he was sure that he wouldn't have had the balls to ask, let alone have the two others agree to it. He was impressed.

"I told them that he was bothering Hermione. He lured her out into the forest." Antonin told them, squeezing her hand under the table, making Hermione blush brightly. She still felt silly for having followed him out into the woods. When she remembered his hands on her body...it still made her shiver. "I demanded that they take care of it, because she's my wife."

"Look at you, making demands on behalf of _your wife_." Rabastan teased good naturedly. He and Reuben could clearly see that he had more than just friendly feelings for the tiny witch that he was married to, even if he wouldn't admit it.

Reuben had a clear head, though. "If Greyback has two days before he is to be sent home, he might be looking to...tie up any unfinished business." His gray eyes stared hard at Hermione, not liking the idea of the werewolf having any kind of fascination with her. "The two of you should stay home, put up extra wards while you are there."

Antonin snarled. "Don't be ridiculous! I won't let that creature make me hide away like a coward in my house. I will face him like a man." He puffed out his chest, confident that he could protect himself and Hermione.

"Please Antonin. It's just for two days. Surely, you can get through two days inside. No one even need know what the reason is." Rabastan begged, knowing that his friend, while a good fighter, was very hot headed. He didn't want him getting into any duels that he might not come out of alive. And while Greyback wasn't a particularly skilled dueler, he had other talents and he had nothing to lose. That made for an incredibly dangerous opponent.

The other three watched as Hermione calmed Antonin, placing her hand on his arm. "It will be fine, Antonin. I am sure that we can find something to do for two days." Her tone was sweetly innocent and free of innuendo, but the two other men were not nearly so innocent as she, and began laughing boisterously.

Hermione was a bit confused, until Antonin turned to face her, smirk on his face mismatched with the light blush on his cheeks. Then, all of their giggles made sense to Hermione. "Oh, honestly! I thought that Luna and I were the teenagers and you lot were supposed to be grown men."

That only made the three men laugh harder, and eventually Hermione couldn't keep the smile off her own face. Honestly, she thought that it wouldn't be a terrible idea to take advantage of a little bit of alone time with her husband.

Once everyone had calmed back down, they got back on track to their topic of conversation. "Well, it seems as though you have taken care of two of our remaining foes, Hermione." Rabastan said, a hint of pride reflected in his blue eyes.

"Yes, that just leaves Rosier." Antonin mused. "Who would have guessed that he would be our most difficult foe."

"It's true he is not physically imposing." Yaxley agreed. "But...Rosier is shrewd. He doesn't have any women on the side and his own wife is long gone. He won't fall for something like Lucius because he is not so arrogant as Malfoy. And he has more friends in the colony than Greyback." All of these things would make it difficult to arrange for his death.

"Not to mention, once all the others have fallen, he will likely be much more suspicious." Luna said, sagely. "It would be best if we could take care of him as quickly as possible."

"Perhaps once he has seen that he has no others to fall back on, he could be convinced to follow our plans?" Hermione asked, perhaps naively of how the other Death Eaters operated.

"It's never that easy." Rabastan said, darkly. "Merlin, he's a bloody Death Eater! How can he be so clean that we can't even think of one potential weakness to exploit? Surely, he must have one." He banged his hands on the table. Rabastan was momentarily annoyed that his brother had proved to be such as easily dispatched foe. But then, Rodolphus has always been overly confident in his obfuscation.

"Perhaps it would be best to continue to think on this." Reuben finally said, his fingers drumming on the table. "Antonin will continue to work with him on the council and perhaps he will learn something that could be of use to us." It was a lot of pressure to put on the quiet Russian, but he knew that time was their friend, not their enemy.

"Yes, let's just get through these next two days with Greyback." Hermione said, brightly. "Rosier doesn't suspect anything yet, so we have time...until Lucius is poisoned. And who knows how long it will take to get the ingredients and to brew that."

"There is no use thinking that we could topple the regime in a week." Luna said again, her blue eyes shining brightly in the flickering candlelight.

With that decided, the five of them agreed to halt talk of the plan and instead dig into a dinner. Luna had made rabbit and roasted parsnips, which turned out to be delicious, even though it looked a little bit odd.

The girls talked about Hermione's garden, as Luna was quite curious to learn more about pumpkins. Hermione promised to bring her some the next time that she visited, as she had come to love them. She knew that Antonin had come around to them as well, even though he was initially hesitant to try them.

The men reminisced about their times at Hogwarts, their stories getting dirtier and dirtier the more alcohol they drank. Rabastan always had copious and exotic types of alcohol, though Hermione didn't drink much that night, as Luna wasn't partaking either. By the time that Yaxley got to a story about how he got a girl to...service him in the Charms classroom after a ball, Hermione was blushing heavily, but she couldn't hide her giggles either.

Standing and pressing a kiss to her husband's temple, she whispered into his ear. "Come, it's getting late and we should get home. I am afraid I will fall asleep right at this table."

Antonin nodded, and stood as well, before gathering their cloaks and helping Hermione into her's. They bid their friends goodnight - to eyebrow waggles from Yaxley - and Hermione took Antonin's arm so that they could apparate back. It was much too cold outside to walk back.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates, and answer questions. I hope you all are having a lovely Halloween. I did post a Halloween one-shot called Hey There Little Red, if you are interested in checking that out.

Huge shout out to Toraach too for helping out with some historical facts in this chapter! You've been so helpful with the little facts about Russia that I never would have learned :)

Please let me know what you thought about chapter sixteen and be on the lookout for chapter seventeen!

* * *

The next morning, Antonin was awoken by a very grumpy looking Reuben and Rabastan. Reuben had his hand up to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight glinting outside. "Finally. Took you long enough to get your bloody arse out here. Now can we get these wards up so I can go back to sleep?"

Antonin amused with his friend's behavior couldn't help but prod him a bit more. "Ah, I see that you got further into your cups than I did last night." It had been a long time since Antonin was quite that hungover, but he was glad that his friend had still come to by to assist still. He supposed he would feel better trapped in the cabin like a sitting duck if the wards were fortified.

The three of them began casting, enveloping the cabin and garden in a bright white light. When it was time, though, to seal him in, Rabastan gave him a cheeky grin. "Alright, then, in you go." This was the part that Antonin was not looking forward to. "We'll be back to let you out as soon as Fenrir is sent on his way."

"What if something happens to the both you?" He asked, somewhat darkly. Nothing was ever a certainty in this colony.

It was Reuben's turn to look offended. "What, both of us?" He rolled his eyes. "I understand that the magic will eventually fade if the caster is dead, but you're a fucking wizard mate, I am sure you will figure something out."

Properly scolded, Antonin smiled and walked back towards the house. It had been a surprisingly crisp morning compared to the nearly warm temperature the day before. He wanted to climb back in bed with a sleeping Hermione. Kicking off his boots by the door, Antonin climbed the ladder hoping to make as little noise as possible, so as not to disturb her.

Pulling off the shirt that he'd put on, he slipping in bed next to her. The bed was deliciously warm and cozy and he couldn't help but spoon himself around her, his cold hands wishing it were her bare skin he was touching. His toes sought the warmth of her shapely calves, and made her hiss. "You're freezing. Just what were you doing up at this hour?" She asked in that sometimes bossy tone of hers.

Antonin chuckled burying his head in her neck. "Rab and Yax stopped by to help me fortify the wards. You are sealed in here with me now until Greyback is gone." He couldn't stop but smile at all the possibilities.

Hermione responded by pressed her arse more firmly against his cock, making him gasp in surprise and anticipation. "Mmm, whatever will we do with so much time to pass?" She teased, and Antonin could practically hear the smile she wore in her voice. "Unfortunately, anything we plan to do will have to wait at least a while, so I can get at least another hour of sleep."

He was a little disappointed, but couldn't stop his own yawn. It was _ungodly_ early, and he wouldn't mind getting a bit more sleep himself. Pulling her a bit tighter against his body, he felt his eyelids grow heavy, and soon he was sleeping.

* * *

The next time that Antonin woke up, it was to the sensation of being watched. He stilled, but didn't open his eyes, until he felt fingers running through the hair on his chest. It was a wonderful sensation and he wanted to see the witch who was causing them. One eye open, he caught Hermione propped up on her elbow, staring at his body, the sheet having dropped to his waist.

He took the moment to stare at her face, completely relaxed. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose that she did not have when he picked her from the barracks, so she must have picked them up working out in their garden. Her skin was pale, complimented by pink lips. Her brown eyes were surrounded by sooty lashes.

He almost couldn't believe he thought she was only _passably_ pretty when he first selected her. She was uncommonly beautiful to him now.

Hermione turned to look at him, a hint of a smile on her lips. She reached her hand up to cup his cheeks, fingers running over his beard, before she pressed her lips against his, chaste. She was so sweet sometimes, she made his heart ache.

Done with her morning greeting, Hermione laid back down in the crook of his arm, laying her head on his chest. Antonin couldn't let her go with _just_ a kiss though, and rolled on his side, tipping her head up with a finger. She parted her lips willingly for him, embracing him with her arms.

Antonin thought he could have laid there with her for the whole day, her arms wrapped around him, tight body pressed against his, and tongue caressing his own. But, to his immense pleasure, Hermione had plans of her own.

He was pressed back against the pillows and she draped herself across him, unwilling to break the kiss, not even when she put a leg over his waist and perched herself on top of him, her center pressed against his cock. He hissed realizing that there was only a bit of fabric preventing him from thrusting up into her.

Hermione, meanwhile, felt as though her heart just might beat out of her chest. She was so excited to be taking control of their intimacy. Antonin had a variety of books, including the autobiography of a Russian prince, who was quite liberal with the details of his mistress. She wondered if Antonin would be upset to know that she had read this, and it was where she had gotten the idea that she could be on top of _him_.

Her husband was eagerly sliding his hands up her legs, over her arse, and finally pulling her nightgown over her head, so she didn't think that he was too bothered by it at the moment. She broke the kiss so that the nightgown might be thrown to the side. With his hands on her breasts, plucking at her nipples, Hermione giggled while she shoved her hands between them, hoping to undo his trousers and shove them down his strong legs.

Once he was as nude as she was, it was easy to guide him to her entrance, before sinking down until they were completely connected. Hermione's eyes shuttered closed while she let the feeling wash over her. It was so much more intense than she had imagined, different from the ways they had done it before. She took a moment to adjust to the new intrusion.

Forcing her eyes open to look down at him, Hermione reveled in seeing his own face screwed tight in pleasure, excited to know that she was able to affect him as much as he affected her. Unsure of her movements, she rose up on her knees before dropping back down, a throaty moan ripped from her.

Antonin placed his hands on her hips, then, grabbing tightly, to help guide her up and down, meeting her thrust for thrust, helping them to fall into rhythm with one another. Hermione sighed, leaning back over to catch his lips once again. It felt wonderful to kiss him while she fucked him, knowing that they were as connected as possible.

Her nipples tightened with each thrust, her chest pressed against his chest, and her clit ground against him with each movement of their hips, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She felt sweat trickled down the back of her neck.

Perhaps sensing that she needed a bit more to push her over the edge, Antonin pulled her down a bit harder every time, until she couldn't contain her moans. She was so close. "Please, Antonin, please." She whispered with her head buried in his neck, over and over, until finally she snapped, fluttering around him in release.

He rolled the both of them over before setting his own pace, wanting to join her in bliss. He met her beautiful brown eyes and knew he was close. Just a few more deep thrusts and he was following her, coming. She felt better than anything he'd felt before and he knew that he wasn't going to be able to give her up.

* * *

After a while longer spent recovering in bed, Antonin and Hermione finally made their way down the ladder to the land of the living, both wearing much less than usual as they knew visitors were in improbability. Hermione felt thoroughly debauched after their morning together in bed, but she was very hungry and knew that her much larger husband likely was as well.

Standing in the kitchen, though, she first noticed the snow coming down in large flakes, the severe wind swirling them about. "Oh, Antonin, look! It's snowing!" She said brightly.

Her husband came to stand behind her, looking out the tiny window for a moment, before making his way to the front door. He stepped outside for a few moments before returning to the warmth of the cabin. "Well, it's a good thing we were here already. Seems as though we have a blizzard on our hands. Don't know why I didn't think of it earlier, with such a drastic change in weather."

"Blizzard?" Hermione asked, feeling a bit silly that she'd never thought of one before. It snowed in England, sometimes even freezing the Thames. But never had she heard of a blizzard occurring before.

"Yes, several feet of snow, bitter cold, and high winds." He said matter of factly. The first blizzard that had swept across the colony had come as quite a surprise, but they had been better prepared for the second. And third. Now, he almost felt as if it was typical. "We'll be snowed in by sundown."

Hermione gasped, hearing this. "Antonin, you have to go get the chickens and bring them in!"

He couldn't stop the snort that her concern about the chickens caused. Of course she was worried about the bleeding chickens. "I will just go put up a warming charm on their coop." He tried to placate her. He would not have chickens with him in his home.

"But if there will be several _feet_ of snow, they could be buried in their coop!" Hermione fretted. "Please Antonin, just go get them and bring them in. We can pen them up in a corner, or trap them in the bathroom."

Seeing the pleading look on her face, Antonin couldn't very well say no to her, no matter how ridiculously he felt about it. Honestly, he could see her point. It wouldn't do to have his chickens die before winter began in earnest, especially when they produced so many eggs. By the time that he brought them inside, Hermione had sectioned off a little area of the living room for the chickens.

They were clucking away happily, glad to be inside the warmth of the cabin, and the excessively pleased look that Hermione gave him made the trouble well worth it.

* * *

Hermione and Antonin spent most of their time reading in front of a roaring fire, lying opposite directions on the couch with their legs hidden underneath a blanket. Antonin was glad that the amount of wood that he'd brought into the cabin would be enough to get them through the storm, if it kept up at this rate.

Hermione was again reading a book about Russian history, until she finally got to a page with a beautifully hand drawn map. "This is an unusual map." She said, sitting up under the blanket, so she could look at it better.

"Hmm?" Antonin asked, noncommittally. Hermione was constantly making little comments about what she was reading, though she didn't require him to respond. It was comforting.

"Yes, look. North isn't up in this one." She said, confused to see the countries of Denmark and Norway, Sweden, completely sideways from what she was used to seeing. Of course, she'd studied those countries before as the Vikings brought Runes with them.

Antonin made a noise of amusement, before he sat up as well, to look at the map. "Well, no one says that North must be up." He ran his fingers over the map, before stopping on Moscow. "See, this way, Moscow gets to be on top."

Hermione thought that was a reasonable explanation. It was probably in the best interest of whoever was using the map to have it drawn in the way that would be most useful to them. It seemed a bit silly to have one city be on the top just for the sake of being highest on the page though.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and Hermione took the moment to rest her head against his shoulder. They had grown so much closer these last two days in their little cabin. "Where did you live in Russia, Antonin?" She asked quietly, looking at all the other cities on the map.

His finger traced down the page before he stopped on a city east of Moscow. "Nizhny Novgorod. Where the Volga River meets the Oka." It was a very important city, and Antonin thought back on those days with fondness.

"Do you miss it?" She asked quietly.

"Sometimes, but it has been so long since I lived there. I am sure many things have changed." Antonin responded. Honestly, he couldn't imagine going back. None of his family lived there any more, so it wasn't if he had much to go back to.

Hermione nibbled her lower lip, knowing that Antonin was rather sparse with the details of his family. "What was your family like?" Her curiosity got the better of her, though. She wanted to know every facet of Antonin's life.

"My father, Aleksandr was an important man from Moscow and he moved to Nizhny on Imperial duty. While he was there, he met my mother. She was like a princess to him, spoiled, but very beautiful and so he married her." Antonin hadn't thought much about his parents since getting involved with King Voldemort, as it tended to bring up unpleasantness. "My father was very...exacting. I had some good times with him, hunting in the winters, but if you disappointed him..." He trailed off.

Hermione felt badly for her husband. She couldn't imagine anyone pushing him around, as he was so big and brawny to her, but she supposed he would have been just a child then. "What was your sister like?"

"Iskra." He said. "She had blonde hair like my mother. She and I never got along, even once we were both grown and out of Hogwarts. She married another Death Eater called Gibbon, who died during the uprising. He didn't live long enough to see their only child born."

She gasped thinking of how awful that must be. "Your poor sister. Do you ever see you nephew or niece?" She knew it was unlikely that he'd seen his sister's child since coming to the colony, but it still felt wrong.

Antonin smiled at her. "I only saw my nephew on his birthday. My sister listened to my mother a bit too much, I am afraid, and has it in her head that she is a princess too. You see, my father always prefered me, because I was the boy, the heir. To make up for it, my mother filled my sister's head with pretty stories."

Sensing that it was a difficult topic for him to talk about, Hermione ceased her questions, and just listened to the constant beat of his heart, even though her mind was spinning with thoughts. Their children would have a cousin that they would never meet. Didn't that bother Antonin? Feeling a bit silly, thinking of children without even knowing if Antonin _wanted_ any, she stopped herself from going too far down that path.

* * *

Later, after they had indulged in one another's bodies _again_ Hermione let her thoughts wander to her husband. They still lay on the transfigured rug - previously scratchy and sooty, now soft and luxurious - naked and basking in the warmth of the fire. They'd had each other so many times in their two days captivity that Hermione had lost count.

Antonin looked content while he lay there with her, unwilling to let her go from his side. She thought that she could stare at his face for hours if he would let her. When she thought of all the men that she could have ended up with, she just knew that she had gotten lucky that Antonin had chosen her.

In the months that they'd been married, he'd introduced her to a whole new world and now...she realized that she had fallen in love with him too. The affection for him had grown slowly over time, but the realization that she wanted more with him had come out of nowhere. She saw herself living with Antonin, raising a family, growing old.

But then she remembered their little deal when they first got together. That they would go their separate ways after a year if they didn't get one and Hermione could keep her dowry. She thought that they got on, but she wasn't sure if Antonin saw a future with her as well. Hermione was worried because, well...she remembered how much he resisted having a wife as well. She wouldn't keep him in a relationship that he didn't want and she had no indication that he had fallen for her.

She could feel tears in her eyes and she hoped that he didn't notice because she didn't think she would be able to articulate what she was feeling. She wasn't going to trap him into a relationship that he didn't want, when he likely just found her body pleasing and her mind enough to pass the time with. And, of course, that she was helping him with his tiny revolution.

What would she do, then, when the year undoubtedly ended and he broached the topic of their separation? Where would she live? She didn't know if she could stay in the colony, but she also didn't want to leave her friends.

Closing her eyes tightly, Hermione decided that she wouldn't think on it too much now. She would just enjoy the time that they had together now, and she would deal with the state of her marriage when she could no longer avoid the topic.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thank you to those of you who favorited, followed or reviewed! It really means a lot to me :) This chapter has a pretty big reveal at the end! So did anyone guess? There are only a few hatters left so the next few will be very action packed! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought about chapter seventeen and be on the lookout for chapter eighteen soon!

* * *

Hermione spent several weeks working with Reuben on creating a poison that would dispatch Lucius Malfoy without creating unnecessary question or undue suspicion among from Rosier when the death actually occurred, and it was ending up to be quite mentally stimulating. It was the closest she'd ever come to formal schooling in potions.

They'd spent rather a lot of time at the beginning paging through books about _horrible_ potions, in Hermione's opinion, and she spent much time badgering Reuben about what purpose a blood boiling potion could possibly have. He would just give her a cocky smile and ignore her pestering.

He had many books - not as many as Antonin - but still enough that it surprised Hermione. She saw many duplicate titles that her husband shared, and she would shake her head, thinking that they should have worked together, so that they could have brought more unique books. Yaxley had many more books focused on potion making, though, so that was interesting. He even consented to letting her borrow a few, provided that she brought them back, saying that he knew where she lived.

Eventually, though, they found the ideal potion which would cause death to the drinker, but didn't contain any ingredients that would be deemed out of the ordinary, except for baneberries. Reuben had handled that by ordering them, under the guise of brewing hang-over cure, which was meant to be provided to the colonists. Luckily, they had been out of hang-over cure for nearly a year, so he didn't get much pushback.

Rosier had given Yaxley a little bit of trouble as well, because some other key ingredients used in healing potions had recently been stolen from the stores. Reuben wasn't too bothered to hear this, but Hermione knew that it was just another oddity that had Antonin slightly worried, along with the food being stolen and the tax building being burned to the ground.

Their selected poison would take two weeks to brew, with consistent periods of rest required. During those times, he would show her little tips and tricks for creating other potions. He admitted that he was impressed with her school and he also lamented the fact that she wasn't educated at Hogwarts, much like Antonin had.

He also spent time telling her all sorts of embarrassing stories about Antonin from Hogwarts, specifically in potions, which was incredibly amusing to her, but she couldn't imagine that he would appreciate. She certainly couldn't imagine her burly husband being just a small, lanky child, either. Apparently, there had been a time after a growth spurt that Antonin couldn't quite stop knocking things over in class, with explosive results.

"The matron was constantly healing his hands from the burns." Yaxley told her, tears in his eyes. "But she could never find it in her heart to be mad at this young, quiet boy. He had _such_ a baby face."

Hermione laughed along at that. "I can't imagine Antonin without a beard. At our wedding, he'd shaved, but by the end of the day he was already scruffy again."

"Don't go all dewy eyed on me now." Reuben would scold her, constantly teasing her about finding her husband attractive, but she couldn't deny that she felt strongly about him. She was allowed to go a bit fuzzy every now and again, day dreaming.

Because, she could not forget that her days with Antonin were limited. Their year would eventually be up, and then she would be on her own again. She often wondered if these anecdotes and memories of him would be more painful or if they would help her get through the trying time.

"There was another time, in our sixth year, that the Potions Master began to be very _nice_ to Antonin." Yaxley started another story.

Hermione looked at him perplexed. "Why was he not always nice to Antonin?"

"Because the guy was always ruining ingredients and never managed to get a potion _just_ right. Of course, he passed all his exams, but he was just kind of average." Reuben explained away the treatment of his Potions Master. "Any way, it was driving Antonin insane for weeks, wondering just why Slughorn was suddenly warming up to him."

He liked to pause, always, waiting for Hermione to ask the right question. "Well, why had he warmed up to Antonin. Was he studying more for potions class?"

Reuben could not hold back his laugh at that. "No, it was because Slughorn was actually trying to court Antonin's mother. He thought that Antonin had some kind of say in the matter, as if she would have listened to a single word he said."

Hermione gasped. That certainly would have been awkward. Of course, Antonin was nearly grown then, so he wouldn't have been looking for a father figure, but it would have absolutely changed the family dynamic. "Well, did she court your Potions Master?" Hermione was on the edge of her seat, needing to know just what happened.

"Of course not!" Yaxley said, perhaps a bit more surprised that she needed to ask, before he remembered that she was completely unaware of the social life that had existed before Voldemort's reign. "She was much too good to court a simple school teacher. And, she had dreams of being courted by someone of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. But...Antonin's mum was a bit outside of marrying age at that point. She should have been focusing her energies on making a match for Iskra."

Hermione thought it must have been incredibly difficult being a widow in a strange land, before she remembered that Antonin's mother was the one who wanted to move to England. Before she could ask any additional questions about Antonin's family, though, their potion was completed.

It was remarkably clear, in Hermione's opinion, seeing as all the ingredients involved had been so vividly colored, but then she supposed, that was magic. It was tasteless, odorless, and basically increased the heart rate of the drinker until their heart couldn't keep up any more and would give out.

Reuben handed her the clear vial. "Remember, this contains enough poison to kill ten adult men, so be sure it doesn't get anywhere near someone you don't want killed. Are you sure you can trust this Ginny?" He asked, holding the vial just out of her reach.

"I can trust her. She's mad as hell." Hermione said, sincerity shining in her brown eyes. "Now, give me the vial and I will make sure that Lucius Malfoy gets it." He handed it over, before sending her on her way back to her cabin.

* * *

Hermione arranged for Ginny to come over to her house for tea one afternoon, and to bring baby Arthur. She was eager to see the little boy, who was several months old at this point. Ginny arrived in a flurry, a loud pop from her apparition into the clearing in front of the cabin. "I'm so sorry I couldn't just have you over at my home." Ginny said, cheeks flushed. "But Lucius won't allow you back there because of your...heritage."

Hermione was unsurprised to hear that Lucius didn't want a mudblood dirtying up his home, as he'd made his thoughts on her blood status clear several times in the past. "Don't worry about it Ginny." She said weakly. The exclusion still hurt, even though she didn't particularly care for Malfoy. She couldn't help who her parents had been.

"I just want you to know that I don't hold those views. My family never has. They called us blood traitors back in England." Ginny said, settling Arthur on her lap when they sat inside on the couch.

"His eyes have gotten so blue!" Hermione commented, feeling a bit glad that he'd lost the characteristic slate grey eyes of the Malfoys. She would hate for Arthur to be burdened by the memory of his father in his features.

"Yes, they remind me so much of my brother's eyes." Ginny gushed, letting the baby grab hold of her finger. "I think you and Ron would have rather got along."

Hermione blushed, thinking that was a rather odd thing for her to mention. It wasn't as if they'd met before, and that didn't null the fact that she was rather happily married to Antonin. But then, Ginny didn't know the particulars of her relationship or that her opinions on the matter had changed.

She pulled out the small, clear vial that held the potion, before handing it over to Ginny. "Here it is. I must warn you that it is incredibly dangerous and this amount would kill him several times over. So be sure that you don't put it somewhere Arthur or yourself might accidentally ingest it."

"I will put it in his brandy decanter." Ginny said confidently. "We have no reason to go in there." She looked unsure of herself for a moment, before meeting Hermione's eyes. "Will he suffer?" She asked.

Hermione swallowed. "From what I read, it will be incredibly painful and frightening." It was the honest truth, and Hermione wouldn't blame Ginny for not wanting to witness such suffering.

But the redhead's face just hardened. "Good." A beat passed before Ginny spoke again. "Hermione, what do you think will happen to me...after Lucius is gone?"

She was a bit uncomfortable discussing such scenarios at this time, just thinking that talking even a little bit more than necessary would increase their chances of getting caught. And of course, Ginny didn't know the whole plan. "I imagine things will go back to the way that they are after a while. It will take time for everyone to...mourn the loss." Hermione didn't think that anyone would actually be mourning for Malfoy, though.

Ginny looked around the cabin furtively. "I mean, do you think that I will get to keep the house?"

Hermione felt a bit aggravated with the girl. How could she be thinking of something so silly as material goods when she was plotting the murder of her husband? Her abusive husband? Hermione sighed after a beat of silence. "I can't see why you wouldn't keep the house. You are Malfoy's wife, after all. And, Antonin is on the council now. If anything happens...he can speak on your behalf, so that you are looked after."

The other girl gave her a hollow laugh. "I know you must think me rather shallow. But I grew up in a very small house with six siblings. They outgrew the space after two children, but then my parents had five more children." Tears began to gather in her eyes. "I just want to make the best possible life for _my_ children. Give them the upbringing they deserve."

Hermione thought over her words, and felt that they had merit. But then, one of Ginny's words gave her pause. "Wait, Ginny, you said... _children_."

Ginny smiled bitterly. "Yes, I just found out that I am pregnant _again_." Tears rolled down her freckled cheeks. "I don't know what I am going to do, Hermione. Trying to raise two children under two years old, all on my own. I hate Lucius, but I worry about what will happen when he's gone."

Hermione felt her heart breaking for her friend. Scooting closer to her on the couch, she wrapped her arms around the younger girl. "Oh, Ginny. I am so sorry." Smoothing her hand over long, straight red hair, Hermione whispered promises to Ginny. "You aren't in this alone. I will help out whenever you need. And just think of all the money that will be yours once Lucius is gone."

After crying for a few more minutes in Hermione's embrace, Ginny finally collected herself and Arthur, needing to return home before Lucius became angry with her. "Thank you, Hermione. For everything."

When Antonin came home later, he found Hermione cooking, with a grim look on her face. "What is it?" He asked, hoping that the Weasley girl hadn't done something to upset Hermione.

"I've given the potion to Ginny. She is going to slip it into Lucius's brandy." Hermione said, perfunctorily.

Antonin cupped her cheeks, searching her face for a hint of what was really bothering her. "Then why do you look so upset, mishka?"

Hermione bit her lower lip. "Ginny is pregnant again. She is very worried about what will happen to her when she is a widow, and really, I am worried as well. Promise me that she will be able to keep the house."

He laughed at her then, pressing his lips against hers in a kiss. "Of course she will get to keep the house. She is a Malfoy after all." He felt her already relaxing at her words. He couldn't expect Hermione to understand how inheritance worked in the wizarding world because she hadn't been educated on it. "And, after an acceptable period, I wouldn't be surprised if Mrs. Malfoy has a line of suitors waiting for her hand."

She felt a bit silly then, having been so worried about what was going to happen. If Antonin said it would be okay, then she knew that it would.

Then, all they had to wait for was the poison to run it's course.

* * *

Even though they had a plan to get rid of King Voldemort's most loyal supporters, Antonin wasn't so stupid to think that he didn't have to start putting out feelers with others in the colony to ensure that they had support. It wouldn't do to gain control of the colony, just to face a mutiny from the others the moment they declared their independence.

He decided that he should start talking to some of the younger members, seeing as they made up quite a large portion of the population, and he knew some were bitter about the lack of advancement that was possible in the colonies. Luckily for Antonin, he had been the frequent partner of one of the young leaders.

He mentioned to Thorfinn that he might fancy a beer down at the pub that night, if the blond wanted to join him. Rowle had looked surprised to be invited before things seemed to slot into place in his mind, and he agreed to meet Antonin there later.

When they arrived, Antonin quickly cast some subtle secrecy spells around the table, wanting to make sure their conversation remained between them. "Where is your wife? I thought you might bring her." Thorfinn asked.

Antonin tried not to be cross with the younger man and rolled his eyes. He didn't understand what the fascination with Hermione was. "Hermione is home, trying to bake some kind of cake." He said dismissively. When he'd left, Hermione had been covered with flour, and hadn't looked to be accomplishing much of anything. "And she's not why we are here."

A look of intense concentration passed over Thorfinn's face. "Then why are we here?" He asked, obviously wanting to get down to business as quickly as possible.

The quiet Russian took a deep breath. "Before I discuss anything with you, I need your assurance that you will keep this between us, unless you agree to help." His dark eyes searched Rowle's face for any hint of dissent. "I am only telling you this because we have been through so much together. I feel I can trust you."

He swallowed. "Of course you can trust me, Antonin. You've saved my life several times over."

Antonin sighed. "In the coming weeks there might be...a change in leadership. The transition has already started." He gave the younger man a pointed look, trying to suggest that Rodolphus's death had been anything but accidental. "When the...transition is complete, the colony might become more independent." He was trying to speak plainly, but he also didn't want anything he said to be used against him. "What I want from you, is to know if this _transition_ would be supported by the younger Death Eaters."

To his surprise, Thorfinn actually looked relieved. "You can absolutely count on our support." Antonin was taken aback by just how resolute he was on this topic. He'd barely given it any thought.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because…" Thorfinn looked around, assuring that no one else was listening in on their conversation. "Some of the younger Death Eaters have been looking to make our own separation from the colony. We're fed up." He crossed his large arms over his chest. "We are sick of doing all the work and getting barely any reward for it. Malfoy can stuff it."

Antonin was pleased to hear that his feelings about being a Death Eater was felt by others. There were times when he wondered if he was just being a disloyal person, looking out for himself only. But, now he had Hermione to think about too. "What kind of actions have you taken to further this separation?"

Thorfinn smirked at him then. "Oh, minor acts of sabotage here and there. And gathering supplies."

Of course, what Antonin had thought for so many months was finally proven true. "You stole the food? And the medicinal supplies?" He asked, feeling a bit silly for not trying to get to the bottom of this sooner. Who knows what they would have been able to accomplish if he'd had the support of his burly partner all along?

Thorfinn sported a crooked smile. "And burnt down the tax building. I was particularly pleased with that one. I imagine that Malfoy has been sweating that one."

Antonin murmured in agreement. "You know if we separate, there will be no more gold in our vaults. There is no going back to England." He wanted to be sure the other wizard understood the consequences of his actions.

He shrugged. "It's not as if all the money in my vault would be worth anything here anyway. The rest of us recognize that too. But I don't think that King Voldemort would get that kind of support from the goblins. I am sure if we wrote them, they would be willing to work with us."

Antonin hadn't thought of that. There wasn't any point in burning bridges with the goblins, so perhaps they should reach out once everything was taken care of. "Alright, so, we have your support. You'll stay?"

His partner offered over a hand. "Of course we'll stay. Just when is the transition going to take place anyway?"

"Any day now." Antonin promised, before standing from the table, eager to go home to his wife.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Wow! Thank you so much for all of your reviews, favorites and follows! It means so much to me. I can't believe that there are only three chapters left plus an epilogue! The next three chapters will be pretty action packed though, so I hope that you enjoy them! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter eighteen and be on the lookout for chapter nineteen soon!

* * *

A week had passed and they still had gotten no word about Lucius's death. It was driving Hermione mad, just waiting each day for news. She hated sitting around, with nothing to do but plot Rosier's death. He was proving more difficult to kill and she hoped that they might just be able to overpower him once Lucius was gone.

The heavy blanket of snow on the ground, now, also meant that Hermione didn't have time to putter around in the garden, tending to her vegetables or spending time with the chickens. Antonin had mentioned the prospect of getting a goat for the spring, which Hermione thought might be nice, but she didn't know if it would logistically difficult. It wasn't as if she'd seen rogue goats running around the countryside.

So, she spent her time inside, reading, which was nice, but really, there were only so many days in a row that Hermione could read before she started to go a bit stir crazy. Then, thoughts of how their schemes might go wrong would filter in.

Antonin did his best to distract her when he wasn't working, though it usually devolved into them heading to their lofted bedroom much earlier than planned for a romp. He was still promising to create some kind of extension charm on the bath, though he had been unsuccessful so far.

When the owl came with the invitation, Hermione was surprised and a bit nervous. Lucius was invited Antonin over for another meeting with Evan. It made the hair on her arms stand up, and she wondered why exactly he wanted to meet alone.

Antonin tried to assure her that it was probably just business as usual, but she couldn't help the sinking in her stomach that something terrible was going to happen. What if the other two tried to do something to Antonin?

He'd laughed at her and told her that while she wasn't the most gifted of duelers, he was more than capable of taking on the other two wizards. Sure, Malfoy was sly, but Rosier was old and out of practice. He was confident that even in an ambush type of situation, he would win.

She knew that Malfoy was trying to be purposefully mean by not inviting her, as he didn't want a mudblood in his house. He'd said as much to Ginny, but it certainly didn't bother her. She knew that it would likely get under Antonin's skin if she told him, so she kept her mouth shut on the matter. It was only a matter of time before Lucius Malfoy would be out of their lives forever.

It didn't stop her from fretting over her husbands safety, and after half a day of looking at him nervously, he got annoyed and apparated away. She incredibly worried about him, thinking that he might have just gone and done something stupid, but he was back in just a few minutes.

"Luna has agreed to come wait here with you while I go to the meeting tomorrow evening." Antonin said, curtly.

Hermione was touched that he thought about what might calm her down a bit. At least, with Luna there, she would have something to keep her mind on, instead of driving herself spare with worry.

Once that had been sorted, Hermione had rewarded him with a series of kisses that left her husband breathless. She was amused by the dazed sort of look on his face. Normally, he was so confident in any physical interaction that they had, but as she became more confident in herself, in her pleasure, she was becoming bolder and sometimes took him by surprise.

He certainly wasn't complaining.

* * *

By the time that Luna arrived, Antonin was already all bundled up in his heavy boots and coat and ready to walk over to Malfoy's house. He decided to walk, saying that the bitter air would help keep his head clear.

Hermione pulled him in for one last kiss before had to leave, her lips lingering longer than was perhaps appropriate in front of Luna, but she didn't care. She wanted to put every ounce of feeling for the man into that kiss, so that he might know what she felt deep in her heart. She still couldn't shake the feeling of dread that lingered ever since he'd gotten his letter.

But then, Antonin actually left the house, leaving Hermione alone with Luna. Honestly, she was grateful to have Luna around because she felt as though the two of them hadn't had much time to catch up recently. There were still so many things going on in Luna's life that Hermione wanted to know more details about.

She told Luna to sit over by the fire, while Hermione brought over tea and some little cakes she'd make. They weren't very pretty, but they tasted quite good. She frequently caught Antonin eating them when he thought that she wouldn't notice.

Hermione sat next to the dreamy blonde on the couch. "So, tell me Luna, how are things going with Rabastan?" She pursed her lips. Hermione had grown to like Rabastan a lot, but she had never liked the way he had just swooped in and taken Luna away. "He is treating you well?"

"Oh yes, Rabastan is lovely." Luna said, taking a small bite of the cake. "He treats me better than I ever could have hoped. To find another person so interested in magizoology has been wonderful. We go hunting together all the time."

"Hunting? What do you hunt for, Luna?" Hermione asked. She privately thought that Rabastan was less interested in magizoology and more interested in just spending time with Luna.

"Well, we had been looking for blithering humdingers." Luna said with a serious look on her face. "But the have all moved south, especially now that they have completed their fertility ritual." She looked proud, but perhaps eager for the humdingers to return.

"Wow, I had no idea that such a...creature existed." Hermione said with a smile, suspecting that no such creature did exist. "But I am finding that more often than not, I had missed out on much that magical learning had to teach me. I didn't even know that werewolves were real."

Luna smiled at her. "I am glad you've been able to broaden your mind. It would be a terrible thing to waste."

"I am glad that…you and Rabastan are getting along." Hermione said, staring at her lap. "I was a little worried when he took you away from the baracks."

"Why would you be worried? I was quite happy to go with him." Luna said, polishing off the little cake that she had been eating.

"Well, earlier that day, you had seemed resolute about not being selected, like...like I was." Hermione said quietly. Her resolve, of course, had never wavered, though now she thought she was likely chosen by the best possible candidate. "Then he showed up and you seemed so ready to go with him. It was a bit... _alarming_."

Luna smiled, placing a hand on Hermione's arm. "You didn't have to worry. As soon as I saw Rabastan, I just knew we were the other's chosen. When we met eyes, it was as if a bolt went through me, right to my heart." Hermione smiled softly, thinking that would have been rather nice. "Later, Rab confessed to me that he felt the same. As soon as he entered the room where we were waiting, he was drawn to me."

"But how could you be so confident, Luna?" Hermione said, ever the practical girl. "That sounds like something out of a fairy tale."

"I suppose it might seem that way, but I could just tell that we would have a very happy future together, for many years." Luna brushed some of Hermione's hair back. She now wore her hair down in an act of rebellion. "It was the same with you and Antonin. When I saw you together at the wedding, I could sense that you had many happy years to look forward to."

Hermione scoffed, thinking of her own timeline with Antonin, ticking down day after day, and she felt a bit bitter at the happy future she probably never would have.

"What is it?" Luna asked, quietly, sensing Hermione's darkening mood.

Hermione nibbled her lower lip, thinking up a plausible answer. "I am just worried...about sending Antonin in alone to deal with Malfoy and Rosier." She shivered, running her hands up her arms. "Both of them are decidely not nice men, and I just can't help but feel a sense of dread."

"You don't need to worry about him, Hermione. Antonin will always come back to you." She said, with a dreamy look on her face.

The brunette wished she shared her friend's unwaivering confidence. "But what if they found out about what we were trying to do? What if Malfoy found the poison, or Ginny told him, or if they realized that Rodolphus's death wasn't an accident?" She felt tears rapidly swelling in her eyes and she hated herself for feeling so weak and helpless in that moment.

"You mustn't think that way, Hermione." Luna scolded her. "Come, let's speak of something else to get your mind off of it. Rabastan and I are going to be renovating our home soon." She said brightly, proud of the odd little cottage that she lived in.

Hermione wiped at her eyes, desperate to think of happier things. "You are? That's wonderful." She said with a grin. "What are you going to change?"

"Well, we are going to be adding a second floor." Luna said. "Of course, we will be needing the space, come spring, but it will be a bit of a hassle to renovate during the winter."

"Why do you need the space, Luna?" Hermione asked, absentmindedly taking a sip of her tea.

Luna smiled, her hand drifting down to her stomach. "When the baby comes, of course, we will need the extra room." Hermione was so shocked to learn that Luna was expecting a baby that she couldn't think of a single thing to say. Of course, Ginny had already had one, and was pregnant again, but she didn't know that Luna and Rabastan were _ready_ to expand their family. "I must say, Hermione, I am so pleased that our children will be the same age, only a few months apart."

That statement stopped Hermione's thoughts immediately and she floundered. "What? Luna...I'm not...I am not going to have a baby." She said with a thick swallow, while her mind tried to flip through the last time she would have had her monthly. She supposed she and Antonin had been much more intimate lately, it was a definite possibility.

The blonde girl smiled at Hermione and placed her own hand on Hermione's stomach. "You are though. Place your hand here, and you can feel the baby's magic."

Hermione did as instructed and was surprised to feel a little pulse of a magical aura that was not her own. Gasping, she felt tears form in her eyes and before she knew it she was weeping. Oh, she'd gone and made a horrible mess of things, hadn't she? Now that there was a baby...Antonin might feel obligated to continue the marriage even if he wanted to end it. Perhaps she could avoid telling him...no, there was a time limit on those kind of things and she couldn't imagine how mad he would be if she kept this from him.

She felt that she was a horrid witch at the bubbling excitement of always having a little piece of Antonin with her, even though she might be trapping him in a marriage he didn't want.

Luna wrapped her arms around Hermione, petting her hair. "Oh no, have I upset you? Aren't you happy Hermione?" She questioned, surprised that Hermione would be anything but overjoyed.

Hermione looked at her friend with watery, brown eyes. "No, I'm happy. So pleased, really, it's just...I didn't know until right now, and it's, well, it's come as something of a shock."

"I'm sorry, I thought you knew." Luna offered, though Hermione didn't know why she was apologizing. Who knew how long she would have gone before she realized it herself? "But it will be so wonderful, Hermione, I just know it."

Hermione swallowed down another hard lump in her throat, refusing to sob in front of her friend. She hoped that it would be wonderful.

* * *

When Antonin arrived at Malfoy's, he eagerly kicked he's boots free of snow in the man's foyer, knowing that it would make Malfoy exceedingly annoyed with his behavior. Antonin knew that Malfoy barely tolerated him and saw him little more than an uncooth outsider, so he wasn't going to do anything to disabuse him of that notion.

Rosier met him with a leer and Malfoy with a sneer, but neither man stood to greet him. They were in Lucius's study, each with a glass of firewhiskey in hand. "Dolohov, did you get held up by that little wife of yours?" Rosier asked, showing off his yellowing teeth.

"Now, Evan, is it really necessary to exchange such pleasantries?" Malfoy asked, a distinct look of distaste for Antonin's wife clear on his face.

Rosier wouldn't let go of the thread, though. "Come now, Lucius, surely you've heard that mudbloods are particularly wanton. It's in their blood, in their nature. You can't fault me for wanting to know if the rumors are true?"

Antonin frowned, looking disdainfully at the older man. "Hermione is my wife and she should be treated as such." His hands tightened on the wand he was holding, making Rosier pause from whatever disgusting thing he was likely to say next.

"Well, of course." He said, with a gulp. Antonin might be an outsider, but of course he was well respected with a wand. He'd heard stories about the Russian that made even his hair curl. He'd seen the tall man once use a severing hex to well...it wasn't worth dwelling on.

"And, to such matters." Lucius said, clearing his throat. "We agree that Mrs. Dolohov should be treated...respectfully. I am sure that you heard Greyback was sent back to England. So that is taken care of."

"Yes, I'd heard." Antonin said, sitting down and accepting the glass of firewhiskey Lucius offered him. It was unbelievably smooth, and Antonin scowled, thinking once again that Lucius worked the system to get the best of everything. He wondered how long the blond had been skimming firewhiskey from the shipments that they would get from London.

"I say, a thank you would be appreciated. It wasn't easy getting rid of that brute." Rosier said, clearly affronted that Antonin hadn't given him the proper level of deference.

He resisted rolling his eyes. "Thank you. Though, I suppose I could have just killed him and saved you lot the trouble." He clenched his jaw tightly, and both men could sense that the other was tightly wound where Greyback was concerned. Antonin didn't want them to think for one second that they'd saved him some big inconvenience by taking care of Greyback _for him_.

Things were a bit uncomfortable for a beat while Rosier and Malfoy tried to figure out just how things would go with Antonin on the council. Of course, he did not fit in as well as Rodolphus has, and they both privately wondered if maybe they should have selected someone else.

"In any case, it's taken care of." Malfoy finally said, looking down his haughtily looking down his nose. "And, in return, there is one little matter of business that we need to take care of, now." He set down the heavy crystal tumbler he was drinking from before crossing his fingers together. "As you know, in the past few months we have had a series of mishaps with our supplies, not to mention the arson that destroyed the tax house."

Antonin raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Go on."

"Well, we have reason to believe that these...so called mishaps...are actual deliberate acts of sabotoge." Rosier said, with a grin on his face. "And we have reason to believe that Rodolphus's death was actually murder. These sabotuers are plotting our deaths as we speak." He leaned forward, towards Antonin.

Antonin felt fear creep up the back of his neck. Perhaps Hermione had been right about this? Had they all been too careless, meeting at bars and each others houses? Openly brewing poisons meant to kill? Had they misplaced their trust in Ginny Weasley? Lucius, for all accounts and purposes, should be dead by now, if she would have placed the poison in his brandy.

Then, he thought of Hermione. Poor, sweet Hermione. What would they do to her, if he was taken out the picture? She would not have the same list of suitors that he promised Ginny Weasley would have. Perhaps, Yax would do the right thing by his friend, and take Hermione in.

He again gripped his wand tightly in his fingers, his knuckles going white around the wood. He would fight his way out of this, if only to see her once again. He cleared his throat. "I don't quite understand what you are getting at?" He kept his voice even, unwavering, even with the fear.

Lucius also leaned forward, a smirk on his pointed face. "What we mean is that we know all about this little...uprising that has been planned."

Antonin felt his stomach coil tightly in preparation for whatever would come next.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! Sorry to live the last one on a cliffhanger but I want everyone coming back for more! There is a bit of a cliffhanger on this one too. A few of you guessed who Lucius was talking about! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post story updates, sneak peeks and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter nineteen and be on the lookout for chapter twenty soon!

* * *

Antonin felt himself edge towards the end of the seat he was sitting on, his body coiled tightly in preparation of what was to come next. Had they asked him here to kill him now that they knew he'd been planning on killing them? How much of their revolution were the two men aware of? Did they know about Rabastan and Reuben? Or Luna and Hermione? He felt as if he were drifting into a pit of fear.

Lucius gave him a mean little smirk. "We know how close you are to young Thorfinn, but you really must understand that we cannot tolerate that kind of treason against the King."

Surprise flooded his mind at Lucius's words. So it wasn't the revolution he himself had been plotting all along, but the one he'd only just learned about himself. Frowning, he realized that Lucius was probably much less bothered by treason against the King and more embarrassed that he'd been bested by a young lad like Rowle.

Antonin shook his head. "Rowle? Rowle has been planning an uprising?" He tried to sound surprised. It was no good to reveal that he knew the truth of Rowle's actions, especially when the hulking man recently agreed to help them out, back them. "When would he have had the time? We are constantly working." He couldn't help but throw in the jab at Lucius and Evan's comfy lifestyle.

"Yes, well." Lucius sniffed. "We imagine that's how he was able to be so effective. Everyone who saw him _lurking_ about must have assumed he was just working for the crown."

He snorted in amusement. "Thorfinn doesn't _lurk_ anywhere." He was hard to miss.

"He had help, of course." Rosier said with a shrug. "Avery for one - I always told Hugh that boy of his needed more discipline. Unfortunately, I thought that the colony would provide that - a hard day's labor is what he needs, I always said."

Antonin didn't really care about the particulars of who was involved because he knew that they would support the independence of their new colony. Still, he wasn't really sure how to proceed with the other two men. "Well, what are we...doing about it?"

Lucius gave him a smile, before standing up and grabbing the decanter of brandy that was sitting on top of the sideboard. "Well, we are going to gather Rowle and all his co conspirators in the morning and we will punish them first, and then send them home to England. I am sure that King Voldemort will wish to punish them further. Treason is such a serious crime." Antonin watched while he poured the liquid into three identical glasses.

"Public execution most likely." Rosier said with that mean little grin that he favored. "You know that MacNair has been itching to behead someone since the uprising. He hasn't gotten to for several years."

Yes, Antonin was well aware of Walden MacNair and his obsession with the huge axe he wielded, having killed several traitors with the device. Whole parts of the legislative branch of the government had been executed once King Voldemort had come to power.

He took the glass that Lucius offered with a his mouth in a tight line. Lucius smiled, showing off all his teeth, making him look every bit the predator that he was. "But, tonight, we will toast to ourselves, for finally pulling out this thorn in our sides!"

Antonin thought it was really just a thorn in Lucius's side, as the King had surely begun asking questions, but he didn't say anything. The other two raised their glasses in toast, and so reluctantly did as well, annoyed by the clinking sound of the crystal.

He put the glass to his lips, tipping it back, before realizing at the last moment that he'd nearly made a grave mistake. How could he have forgotten that Hermione said Ginny was going to put the poison in Lucius's brandy? One drop and he would have been just as dead as the other three.

Luckily, the other two men didn't notice that the liquid in his glass hadn't gone down at all. He set the glass on the table so that he wouldn't be tempted to take another drink. Clearly, Lucius had been saving this for a special occasion.

"Don't like the brandy Dolohov?" Lucius asked, his face already beginning to flush red.

Antonin winced. "I bit too sweet for me, I'm afraid." Honestly, he'd never liked the cloyingly sweet brandy that some of the Death Eaters favored. He'd take something with a bit of bite any day of the week, but his real reason for avoiding the brandy was because he knew of the poison currently floating in the alcohol.

He watched, impassively, as both Lucius and Evan began to get quite flushed, and he imagined, quite warm. That side effect of the poison currently coursing its way through their veins was that they were only pushed to keep drinking.

But soon, they seemed to understand that there was something a bit more sinister going on, as their heart rates continued to increase. Antonin could see a vein throbbing in Lucius's forehead with each rapid beat of his heart, standing out as his blood pressure skyrocketed. The blond looked at him, gasping in surprise, before dropping his crystal tumbler in surprise, perhaps understanding Antonin's treachery.

Rosier wasn't so quick to realize what was happening and reached out to the younger man, desperate for any help. "Please, Dolohov, help me." He pleaded, his words disjointed from the strain.

Antonin didn't do anything to help either of them, instead standing and pulling away from their outstretched hands, unwilling to ease their final minutes. He looked away from their shaking bodies, their pained gasps enough to signal that the end was near.

And then, silence. And then, success.

* * *

Antonin didn't wait for the elf to return with his coat, instead apparating away to Reuben's house. He found his friend shocked, clearly not expecting company, but quick to action. "Go get Rab and meet me at Malfoy's." He said, not offering an explanation. Reuben didn't need any explanation, though, as his friend hopped into action.

He returned home to Hermione and Luna, who looked to be in the midst of an incredibly deep conversation. He wished that he knew what it was that they were talking about, as Hermione seemed a bit distressed, but they didn't have time for that. "Girls, I need you to come with me." He offered a hand to each one, before apparating them over to Malfoy's house.

Rab and Reuben were already waiting for them, there. Rabastan had been waiting, hopping back and forth between his feet, waiting for someone to let him in. When he saw his wife, he wrapped her tightly in his arms, pressing a kiss to her temple. Antonin felt something stir in his chest, and he felt his own need to touch Hermione. He held out his hand so that it could take Hermione's hand in his.

"What's happened?" Reuben was the first to break the eerie calm that had settled over Malfoy's house.

Antonin pointed towards the sitting room where the two bodies were waiting. "They said they knew about the uprising." He felt Hermione stiffen next to him, clearly in fear. "But they meant Rowle's little group, who was destroying buildings and stealing food. They wanted a toast, to pat themselves on the back for figuring it out." He said with a roll of his eyes.

Reuben walked into the other room, and viewed the bodies dispassionately. "They took the poison? Both of them?"

He shrugged, putting his arm around Hermione's shoulders. Hermione answered Reuben's question. "Ginny said she was going to put the poison in Lucius's brandy." She turned to Antonin. "You didn't drink any of it, did you?"

Smiling down at his worried wife, Antonin shook his head. "I nearly did, but I remembered at the last possible moment." Hermione relaxed again. Really, he was lucky. She just knew that her bad feeling earlier was a sign of bad things to come. It sounded to her as if Antonin had almost been found out by Malfoy and Rosier and then he'd almost ingested a poison that would kill him in an extremely painful fashion.

Rabastan was the first to let out a whoop of joy at the situation. "Well, that takes care of our Rosier problem! What luck!" He said, pressing a wet kiss soundly on Luna's face, his hand coming to rest on her stomach.

Hermione blushed, knowing that Antonin and Reuben weren't aware of their secret yet. She felt the weight of the knowledge that she, too, was with child settle on her again. Of course, this was a great feat, that their colony was nearly independent from King Voldemort's rule, but she wasn't ready to celebrate so soon.

She was worried about telling Antonin about the baby. She knew it was something that she couldn't put off, and now with all of the upheaval, all of the excitement of being independent...she didn't want to put a damper on his spirits. She didn't want to trap him in a marriage that he didn't want.

"Luna, let's go find Ginny and Arthur." Hermione said quietly. She would leave the three friends to decide how to proceed next, but for now, Ginny needed to know that she was free and her part had been played brilliantly. Luna took Hermione by the hand, and the two girls went to look through the bedrooms.

"Well, what do we do next?" Rabastan asked, rubbing his hands together, perhaps a bit too eager to have two bodies a few feet away from him. It was true that Antonin didn't like the other two men, but he didn't quite...delight in their deaths like Rabastan did.

It was a difficult question though. "None of us have the ability to call everyone for a gathering. It died with them." Antonin said, looking at the red face of Evan Rosier, remembering the way that the man had reached for him.

Reuben swore under his breath. "They didn't transfer it to you?" He asked, only to see Antonin shake his head. "Well, there is no point in trying to track everyone down tonight. We can split up tomorrow, gather everyone in the square and let them know." His serious face was transformed by a smile. "We're free."

Rabastan matched the smile, a laugh bubbling up in his throat. "We did it. We actually did it." He never would have thought that they would be successful. He'd been planning on being found out since he first uttered that he no longer wanted to be subject to King Voldemort. And now, Antonin had stumbled into such a lucky situation.

Even Antonin could not keep his face grim at the prospect of being free. "We really did." He said, thinking about how much _better_ life would be now, for him and Hermione. He'd make sure that she never wanted for anything. That she would never be limited by her blood status again.

"Not to change the subject, but I wanted you two to know..." Rabastan started, smiling even wider, as though he could not contain his joy. "Luna and I are going to have a baby."

Congratulations were shared between the three men, thinking of the new life that would be occurring after the long winter. Tonight, it seemed was a time for celebration, and tomorrow they would work out all the kinks of what happened next with the colony and its leadership.

"Come on, let's go see what vintage Malfoy had hidden about here." Antonin suggested, callously stepping over the bodies in the room.

"Just don't drink the brandy!" Reuben called over his shoulder, his voice shaking with giddiness.

* * *

The events of the day previous came rushing back to Antonin as soon as he opened his eyes. He was eager to face the day, but at the same time, the prospect of getting up from the nest he and his little wife made was undesireable. She looked so sweet in sleep, with her hair curling around her face, but he could see from the furrow between her brows that something was troubling her.

She worried too much, he knew, though perhaps she was not so far off sometimes. She'd told him she'd had a bad feeling the day before and he'd dismissed her worries, only to be confronted by Malfoy and fear for his own life. Perhaps he should give her a bit more credence in the future.

Still, they could not put off informing the colony of the changes that would be occuring in the coming days. He pressed kisses to her forehead, cheeks, nose and lips, gently coaxing her to the land of the living. When she looked up at his face, chestnut brown eyes framed by sooty black lashes, he thought he felt his heart melt a little bit.

She eagerly returned his kisses, breaking away every now and again to look at his face as if she were trying to memorize all of his features. Her fingers trailed down his chest, one destination in mind, making him hiss in pleasure. He had to stop her before things got much too carried away. There would be time for celebration later, once they'd sorted everything.

He grabbed her hands, pressing kisses to the tips of her fingers. "Mishka, I am afraid we have too much to do today. I need to begin gathering the other Death Eaters to explain what happened, and there could still be some fighting today. I will be back later."

His statement made her sit up. "How could you think that you were just going to leave me here? I helped, I am coming with you." She said in that bossy tone of hers.

Antonin groaned, perhaps knowing already that he was going to lose his argument. "It's too dangerous, Hermione. I don't want one of the dissentors to get mad and take it out on you."

Hermione looked down at him. "Please, Antonin. Let me see this through. I have my wand, and you know I practice defensive spells all the time. I need to be there." She should have been surprised by how quickly he gave into her, but instead she hopped out of the bed, wanting to get dressed for the day, eager to go with.

He popped over to the row of houses where Rowle was staying first, knowing that he would help them gather everyone. He pounded on the door until the tall blond opened the door shirtless, embarrassed at being seen by Hermione, who he was not excepting. "It's done." Antonin told him with a smile. "Gather the others - we have no way to summon anyone else."

Rowle wrapped Antonin in a tight hug, an unexpected form of affection, before offering a hand to Hermione to shake. She gladly took it, eager to get to know another of Antonin's aquantences.

After that they popped from house to house, knocking on doors and telling everyone to gather in the square as quickly as possible. Hermione even talked Antonin into taking her back to the baracks to get Septima and the remaining filles. They were just as effected as the other Death Eaters, she'd argued.

Before long, they returned to the square to wait, standing towards the front with Reuben, Rabastan and Luna. Hermione looked out at the sea of men dotted every now and again with wives and other filles. There really were many more people in the colony than she had expected, but not terribly many either.

"Oi, Dolohov, what's going on?" A man shouted from the back of the huddle, making everyone else quiet down after a few seconds. "Where's Malfoy?"

To her surprise, Antonin looked uncomfortable to have the attention on him, and perhaps surprised that everyone was looking to him for leadership or guidance. He cleared his throat, before raising his voice so that everyone could hear him. "Malfoy is dead. Rosier too." A ripple of noise spread through the colony before he began talking again. "In the past months, we have undertaken steps to remove the previous leadership from the colony."

"Whose we?" Another man shouted.

"Myself, Yaxley, Rabastan and his wife, and my wife, Hermione." Antonin said proudly, ignoring the occassional sneers from the crowd. "But another group was also working to break free: Rowle, Avery." He pointed to the young men that had grouped together.

He began pacing back and forth as he continued to explain himself. "We've become unhappy, disillusioned with the future that King Voldemort has given us. Why should so many of us do the work, only to have people like Malfoy and Rosier take the best after not putting in the time and effort? Why should they lord over us when we are _brothers_?"

Hermione was pleased to see support and admiration grow on the faces of the Death Eaters. It was clear that others had been feeling the same way as well. It had been doing on for too long.

"So, I propose to you all, let us split from King Voldemort's England - create our own country here, where a man's worth in life comes from the effort he puts in. I refuse to give up any more years of my life to a tyrant who sends us away without any care for our lives!"

A cheer rang out through the Death Eaters assembled, and all of the filles as well. Hermione was smiling broadly, so proud of her husband.

Until she heard a chilling sound, she hadn't expected to ever hear again in her life. "Hem, hem. Excuse me, Mr. Dolohov, but it sounds to me as if you've just committed treason." Umbridge stood there, in all her pink glory, flanked by none other than Fenrir Greyback, whose icy blue eyes were trained on Hermione. "I've come here to restore order."


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Thank you all so much for for your reviews, favorites and follows! This is the last chapter - there will be an epilogue, though. If you don't want the Antonin x Hermione to end, though, I have started another story called Slip, so you can check that out. Or, you can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates, and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty, and be on the lookout for the epilogue soon!

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It seemed as if all hell broke out in the blink of an eye, but Antonin had only two goals in mind. The first was to keep Hermione safe, but the other was to kill the woman who had hurt his mishka, the woman who had appeared before them.

"Things are much worse here than you described, Greyback. Luckily, King Voldemort has be to help clean things up." She said in that disgustingly sweet voice of hers. It couldn't hide the fact that she was actually rotten to the core.

Umbridge shoved past the Death Eaters assembled so that she could make her way to the dais where their group was waiting. Antonin shoved Hermione behind him so that Umbridge wouldn't see her right away, while he narrowed his eyes at her. "Voldemort's influence here means nothing now. We are a free country." He said proudly, though he could hear the gasps ripple through the crowd, at his non-use of the honorific.

Umbridge wasn't happy with this either, and without preamble, she sent a dark slicing hex towards Antonin. Hermione gasped, and stepped out from behind her husband, throwing up a shield at the last minute.

The pink toad narrowed her eyes at Hermione. "You! I should have known that you were involved in this trouble." It took a moment for Dolores to see the wand in Hermione's hand, before she gasped, pressing a hand against her ample chest. "Where did you get that?"

"I'm allowed a wand, Umbridge. There is nothing you can do to prevent that." Hermione said, proudly, knowing that she had the support of Antonin. She was nervous, as this was likely to be a real duel, something she'd never experienced. Sure, she practiced all sorts of spells, but she'd never been involved in this way.

"You insolent, little mudblood." Umbridge said, before striking Hermione across the face. Surprised by the non-magical assult, Hermione cried out, holding her face, and taking her eyes off of her opponent. She didn't notice Umbridge raising her wand at her until it was too late, only to be saved at the last possible moment, by a surprising source.

"Don't touch her. She's mine." Greyback said, his arm held tightly around Umbridge's wrist, not allowing her to move an inch.

Umbridge grabbed her arm back, before sneering at Greyback. "Really? Her?" She didn't understand the appeal that the mouthy little mudblood had, but she must have some appeal if a strong Death Eater like Dolohov had been brought under her spell. Though, he was only a half-blood so his judgement was likely skewed. "Well, I suppose you're just as filthy as she is, mongrel. You suit one another."

Hermione felt herself shudder at the thought of Fenrir Greyback being anywhere near her. Even as it stood, his eyes on her form pressed her down like a heavy weight. Antonin didn't seem to like it either, as he took another step closer to her, as a means of protection.

Umbridge turned to face the crowd, before casting a sonorous charm, her voice magically lifted to all the Death Eater brethern who had gathered around. "We must have order. If you stay and fight for the King, he will reward you handsomely. Fight for your King!" She commanded.

Her words still carried weight to some, but many felt that the King didn't care much about them. Still, fighting quickly broke out amongst the Death Eaters, mostly breaking along the lines of age. The older Death Eaters, who had supported Voldemort for decades, were the more likely to fight for the King.

Antonin pulled Hermione away from the fray, intending to get her to safety, only to have her pull her hand away. "No! Antonin, let me fight. I won't let her get away with what she's done to my parents. To me! This is my only chance for revenge." She looked seriously into his eyes.

He stared at her face, and could tell that her mind was already made up. Merlin, she was just as stubborn as he was. He knew that there would be no talking her out of it, no matter how much it pained him to let her participate. He couldn't bare the thought of her being injured or killed. Still, the look in her eyes broke his resolve. "Fine, but please keep close."

Hermione promised that she would stay by his side, but of course, they couldn't plan for these kind of things. Antonin was quickly cut off by Greyback, who required his full attention. "Thought you could get rid of me, little man?"

The Russian scoffed at Fenrir's words. He always hated the way that the werewolf tried to make him feel small, when he was nearly as tall as the hulking beast was. It was ridiculous, and it almost never had the desired effect. "It was either that or kill you. Malfoy spoke for you though." He lied through his teeth.

The pair of them began exchanging hexes, each more painful than the last. Antonin was able to strike first, a slicing hex sending blood spraying back on him. Greyback pressed a hand to his side, but the wound continued to lose blood at a rate that would alarm most. If anything, it only seemed to make Fenrir more vicious. He sent two crushing jinxes, one after the other and the second caught Antonin's hand. Luckily, it wasn't his wand hand, but it still hurt more than he expected.

Deciding that he needed to end this now before it got out of hand, he sent a disarming charm the werewolf's way. He was obviously not expecting such a benign charm, and really, Antonin wouldn't have thought of it if it hadn't been one of Hermione's favorites. He didn't even try to catch the bit of wood that flew through the air, instead sending a curse of his own creation Greyback's way.

He watched with a poorly concealed smile as the purple flames engulfed the werewolf, until he collapsed to the ground in a shrieking heap. This screams were eerie, and easily heard over the rest of the fighting. And then...he was silent.

Shaking his head to clear it, he immediately began searching the battle field for Hermione, only to find her locked in a duel with Umbridge. From where he could, he could see that she was mostly using defensive spells, and that Umbridge was attacking her fiercely, not giving her a change to react. Fear pooled in his stomach, knowing that Hermione had never dueled properly before. He had only one thing on his mind: get to Hermione.

The battle raged around him, but he was able to fire hexes at would be opponents. Luckily, there didn't seem to be too many people fighting for King Voldemort, though he did see Rowle trying to fight off two wizards. He sent a curse that way, taking down one of the wizards in the fight. Thorfinn tipped his head Antonin's way before he continued with the wizard still standing.

When he finally made his way to Hermione's side, he could see a bloody gash on her arm, but he could also see that she was fed up. Gone were the defensive and protective spells. Instead, she was firing off curse after curse at the pink witch, each one darker than the last.

Finally, she send an blood boiling curse Umbridge's way, and he was surprised that she even knew it. The curse struck its mark with expert precision. Umbridge fell to her knees, dropping her wand, unable to perform any counter curse. Her high pitched scream made his ears ring, but he kept his face trained on Hermione's.

She walked up to the weeping woman, completely unaffected by her pain and raised her wand. " _Crucio!_ " She shouted, watching as the shrieks were renewed, putting all of the pain and misery she'd felt growing up in the Merope Gaunt Home in that one single curse.

But, after a minute, the screaming stopped. Hermione still hadn't let up, her face transformed by a grimace. He placed a hand on her wand arm, gently encouraging her to stop what she was doing. "Hermione, she's dead." He whispered, catching her in his arms, knowing that she would need support. He knew that the only way to stop Umbridge had been to kill her, but Hermione likely would be upset.

When she looked up at him, tears in her eyes, he felt his heart throb for her. "It's okay, Hermione. It's over now. Really this time." He smoothed her hair down, before dipping his head to press against her lips in a fierce kiss. She'd been magnificant. His warrior witch.

The fighting died down around them, and soon cheers erupted between the remaining Death Eaters. They were _actually_ free of his reign.

Rowle came up to Antonin, where he was standing with Hermione, before clapping a hand on his back. "What do we do now?" The blond asked. So much preparation had gone into freeing the colony, but none for what happened afterwards.

Antonin narrowed his eyes in concentration. "We will send the King their bodies. So he knows that its the truth. Along with a letter of intent, that from this day, we are a free colony." He said, excitement bubbling up inside him. "And...beer for everyone."

That got everyone's attention, gathering the bodies of those who had fought for their King. Yaxley led the charge to the tavern, rolling out barrel after barrel of beer. Everyone drank freely while they drafted the letter together, in Rabastan's hand - he had the best handwriting after all.

A veritable party broke out among the Death Eaters and women alike, each person excited to celebrate their newfound independence. Antonin shared in many a toast made by a drunker and drunker Reuben Yaxley, laughing along with the others as the night wore on. But he realized he was missing something. Looking around, he noticed Hermione standing huddled next to Luna. Luna looked serene and happy, but Hermione looked troubled. She was clearly not enjoyed herself. Frowning, Antonin hoped she wasn't too disturbed from killing Umbridge earlier.

Looking into his empty mug of beer, he realized that Hermione needed him more than this rowdy bunch. Standing, he made his way over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. He saw a hint of a smile as she wrapped her arms around his waist, but her brow was still furrowed in thought.

Without asking, his disapparated them back to the cabin. A wave of his wand and a fire was quickly warming the main room. "Hermione, you are troubled. Please let me know what's wrong and I will fix it if I can." He knew that he would do anything she asked of him, and wondered just when she'd gotten such a deep hold on him.

"I...I have to tell you something, Antonin." She said, after a beat of silence. "You might want to sit down."

He felt his heart leap to his throat at her words. What could she possibly have to tell him that would warrant him sitting down? Still, he headed her words and guided them both to the small lumpy couch.

Hermione looked into her lap, her thumbs twisting around one another in a telltale sign of nerves, but she didn't speak. Just when Antonin was about to shout at her for her silence, she finally spoke, her eyes firmly _off_ his face. "I don't really know how to tell you this, but...I am pregnant." She closed her eyes tightly, not wanting him to see the tears that had formed in her brown eyes.

Antonin sat on the couch completely still as a myriad of emotions ran through his body. The biggest was relief, that she wasn't telling him that she really loved Reuben, or some other preposterous idea that had filled his head. He'd never thought about fatherhood before, but now that it was happening, joy swelled in him. Hermione was going to have a child. _Their_ child. He was ecstatic.

But then, he looked at her face, her body crumpled in nerves, and all of his fears came rushing back. "Why are you upset?" He demanded, grabbing her chin so that she would have to look at him. The tears were plain to see and made him feel even worse.

"I just…" She trailed off, not knowing how to tell him everything that she was feeling.

He hopped up from the couch, and began pacing back and forth. "You...you don't want the baby." He asserted, putting a voice to his fears. "You are trying to leave me!" The fire in the fireplace flared violently, spitting and popping. Antonin didn't even have time to be embarrassed by his accidental magic. That hadn't happened since he was a school boy.

"No!" Hermione said vehemently, shaking her head back and forth. She was crying in earnest now, not bothering to wipe away the tears. "I don't want to leave you, that's the problem. When we got married, we talked about separating after the year was up. And now I've...I've _trapped_ you in this marriage that you don't want with a child."

He didn't say anything for a moment, her words replaying in his head. He couldn't deny that he was incredibly confused. She didn't want to leave him...but, she thought that she was trapping him with the child?

Needing to fill the silence, Hermione continued to babble. "It's fine though, we can still separate, if you want. I'll understand. You don't have to worry about me. I can figure things out. I always do." She promised, again looking away from him, unwilling to see the look of disgust that was surely on his face.

Antonin knew he needed to put an end to her nonsense immediately. He crossed the room, kneeling in front of her, so that they were at the same eye level. He cupped her cheeks lovingly, taking a moment to stare into her eyes, before capturing her lips in a fierce kiss. "You foolish witch." He said with a laugh. "I don't want to separate from our marriage, and I wouldn't wish to even if there was no child."

Hermione felt her breath hitch, surprise clearly on her face. She stared at her husband, scruffy beard masking his genuine smile, and dark eyes showing nothing but honesty. "Really?" She asked, thinking this just might be too good to be true.

"Really, Hermione. I love you." He told her honestly. Antonin couldn't remember a single time he'd told another person that he loved them, but there was no denying that he really _did_ love Hermione. He never would have expected it to happen, but she was perfect.

The silence seemed to stretch on, and he worried that perhaps she did not feel the same. He'd left himself completely vulnerable and now he wanted to shake her, to find out, did she felt the same. But he didn't have to, because in the next second she launched herself towards him, knocking him flat on his back, she perched on his chest. "Oh, Antonin. I love you too. I have for months." She revealed, a goofy smile on her face.

He pulled her down for a kiss, languid and slow, but full of emotion. His cock throbbed insistently against her core and he wanted nothing more than to _make love_ to his wife. Grasping her around the waist, he focused, before apparating them to the loft of their cabin.

Each piece of clothing that was removed only seemed to hasten their urgency for one another. By the time that they were each naked, Antonin was eager to flip Hermione onto her back, settling between her warm thighs. Flushed from their mutual confessions of love, Antonin entered her easily, hissing at the sensation of her enveloping him.

His mind was clouded, heady, from the feel of her legs wrapped around his waist, seating him completely inside her, her arms wrapped around his neck, nails digging into his back, hard nipples pressed against his chest, and breathy moans into his neck. "Oh, Antonin, I love you, I love you." She panted, so close to her peak.

He didn't realize it until later, but he was repeating each declaration of love, peppering kisses up and down her neck. It didn't take much until he felt her fluttering around him, pulling him over the edge into bliss with her.

Rolling off her, he pulled her body against his tightly, unwilling to give up the skin to skin contact, but not wanting to crush her with his body weight. He placed his hand, hesitantly, on her yet flat stomach, amazed at the life that grew there. His heart started to pound when she placed her hand on top of his. "Our child." He said, unable to wipe the smile from his face.

"Would you prefer a son?" Hermione asked quietly, thinking of a new future with Antonin firmly by her side.

"Honestly, it's still such a shock. I'd never imagined becoming a father." He said, suddenly worried about all the things that _could_ go wrong. But, at the same time, he knew that if he had Hermione in his life, to make him more patient, more kind, more loving, he would be able to get through everything.

Laughing, he could admit that King Voldemort actually _hadn't_ ruined his life. Hermione elbowed him in the side, annoyed, thinking that he was laughing _at_ her. "What is it?"

He pressed a kiss to her sweaty temple. "Oh, mishka. I was just thinking that perhaps Voldemort didn't ruin my life. He gave me what I never knew I wanted."

Hermione hummed in agreement, thinking that it was true. Yes, her life had been very hard, and she hadn't been happy about being shipped off to the colony, but at least it had brought her to Antonin. He'd given her a life that she didn't know was possible, opening her eyes to magic, and her heart to love. Perhaps being a Fille du Roi wasn't the punishment she'd been expecting.

Rolling in his arms so that she could wrap her arms around his chest, Hermione pressed one kiss to Antonin's lips, before letting her eyes drift shut in sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Huge thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited or followed this story or just went along on the ride with me! I know this was kind of an unusual AU setting, so it means a lot that you gave it a chance. This is just a little epilogue, so I hope you enjoy it! Huge shout out to Toraach for helping me with the names in this chapter! If you enjoyed this, please follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where you can get updates about future stories, etc.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty one!

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Five Years Later

Walking into his home, Antonin noticed his mischievous son, Pavel, trying to get into the pumpkin pie that his wife had cooling on the counter. Smiling, he bent over to pick him up, setting him on his shoulder. "Pasha, what has your mother told you about eating sweets before dinner?"

The four year old didn't even look a bit repentant at having been caught, only sorry that he hadn't gotten to enjoy any of the sweet treat. "That it will ruin my dinner." He said, his little voice clearly annoyed.

Antonin couldn't hide a smile. He'd been so ecstatic to learn that Hermione was pregnant after their successful revolution. But, then he had many weeks while his son grew inside of her to become nervous. He didn't want to be a father like the one he'd had growing up. He could be strict, yes, but never would he hold his children to such exacting standards.

After Hermione had gone through the difficult labor and told him that he had a son, Antonin had felt his heart swell with such love that he knew he would never treat his children as he had been treated. The perfect little boy in his arms deserved so much more.

He'd initially scoffed at giving his children Russian names, not wanting to make them outcasts in their new colony, but in the end, Hermione hadn't given him a choice. She spent her pregnancy up to her neck in Russian history books, until she found names that she liked. Really, Antonin could never argue with her.

Turning his son around in her arms, he was often surprised by how much a miniature of himself Pavel was. Though, he could see a bit of Hermione in his expressive brown eyes, and dark curly hair. "Where is your mother now?" He asked, trying to keep a serious face.

Pasha didn't believe his bluff for a second. "She is changing Stasha after she got flour on her dress."

His daughter, Nastasha, was just two years old and was at the stage where she had to do everything with her mother. "Let's go see them, shall we? We don't want to be late for the party." Antonin walked up the stairs, Pasha resting on his hip, to the upper level of the cabin. They had expanded their little cabin twice in the five years since the colony became independent. They'd even put in stairs once Hermione had become too pregnant to climb up the ladder.

Pushing the door open to his daughter's room, he saw he dressed in the pink dress her Aunt Luna had given her for a birthday. The one that was embroidered with radishes. He couldn't stop the smile from his face. "Don't you look beautiful, Stasha. Are you ready for the party?"

His daughter had wavy blonde hair, to both her parents' surprise, but Antonin knew that she took after his mother and sister. She also had his impossibly dark eyes. Hermione often complained that she was all Dolohov and not even a little bit Granger. Still, while his daughter might not take after her mother in looks, it was certainly where she got her inquisitive nature. Nastasha was constantly asking about all things around the house and in the yard. She would be content to spend hours in the garden with Hermione, or in the chicken coup, or even with the docile goat that they had finally got three years before.

Nastasha gave him a shy nod from where she was sitting, playing with one of the radishes on her dress.

"Shall we go? We don't want to be late." Hermione asked, giving him a brilliant smile. His wife might be five years older, but she was still as beautiful as the first day he'd met her. Their relationship wasn't all smooth sailing - Hermione still hated being told what to do, and he was probably always a bit too possessive - but they were better together than they were apart. Their love for one another had grown with each year.

Each of them taking a child, Antonin and Hermione apparated over to the Lestrange cottage, where they were celebrating the first birthday of Luna and Rabastan's _fourth_ child, a girl called Hermione. He had once asked Luna about their veritable _menagerie_ of children, and she'd gone much too in depth about a fertility ritual she performed every Samhain with Rabastan, while Rab just sat next to his wife and smirked.

Little Hermione's three older siblings were four year old Pandora - named for Luna's mother - three year old Edmund - named for Rabastan's father - and two year old Xenophilius - named for Luna's father. Hermione had been embarrassed to have this most recent Lestrange named in her honor, but Luna had been insistent. Apparently Rabastan didn't care to have his mother honored, and Hermione was the first person that came to both his and Luna's mind.

Despite growing up together, Pandora and Pavel did not have the close friendship that their mother's had hoped for. No, Pasha preferred to spend his time with Arthur Rowle. Although the child had started out as a Malfoy, Ginny had given her two children - William following his older brother Arthur - their stepfather's name when she married Thorfinn.

Antonin was probably the most surprised when Thorfinn began courting Ginny Malfoy. The big, lumbering man had been a frequent visitor at their home after the revolution, as he was intensely curious about Antonin's wife, a woman who had transformed the gruff man into someone tolerable, he would joke.

Hermione had been friendly with Thorfinn right off the bat, knowing that he was a good friend to Antonin through the years. Antonin just had expected them to get along _quite_ so well, always gossiping and arguing. Thorfinn loved to tell Hermione naughty stories because of how brightly red she would blush. It always made Antonin a bit uncomfortable, perhaps seeing that the pair was suited for one another, and Thorfinn was much closer in age to Hermione. Perhaps she would prefer a younger man than him?

It _had_ been a relief to see how doe eyed Thorfinn went the first time Ginny had visited for tea while he was there. It wasn't as though he ever doubted Hermione's honesty, but to learn that the other man was _not_ after his witch was a relief. Now Thorfinn and Ginny had been married for several years, and they had a daughter of their own, a girl called Thea. All three of the children had strawberry blond hair.

When they arrived at the Lestranges' cottage, Hermione left to see if Luna needed any help with the food, Nastasha still firmly on her hip, while Antonin set Pasha down to play with the other children, before looking for Reuben. He found the man easily enough, grinning like a loon and apparently well into his cups. "What's the celebration about?" He was surrounded by empty bottles of the alcoholic cider that Luna made - quite the success in the fledgling colony.

Yaxley gave him a devilish smile before passing a letter across the table. "My wife has contracted dragon pox! She's likely to die!" Antonin thought it was cruel to rejoice the death of your wife, but he supposed in Yaxley's case, they could make an exception. Reuben had never had a relationship with a woman in the colony, but he had become rather fond of the new barmaid, who'd joined the colony from France. She never took any of Yaxley's nonsense, but Antonin thought that his friend might actually _enjoy_ the scolding.

Despite several attempts to reclaim the colony, King Voldemort eventually gave up, perhaps finding them too far away to worry about. Or, perhaps he grew tired of receiving the remains of all the soldiers he sent over. Immediately after Umbridge and Greyback had been returned to England, he sent a larger force. Only, this time the colony was ready, and sent back the dead. A few of the soldiers chose to remain, free men. The cycle continued for three years, but they hadn't been bothered now in over a year.

As time went on, services between the two countries gradually resumed. They still received post, and after extensive negotiation with the goblins, they were able to access their vaults as well. Hermione had been instrumental in resuming the negotiations. The fact that she grew up outside of traditional wizarding culture meant that she was able to more carefully tread through the goblins culture. Not to mention that they trusted her more. She was still working with them to try to get their own branch of Gringotts opened right there in the colony.

That's not to say that it was all smooth sailing. The first two winters had been exceptionally hard, and it was difficult to ration food for so many who were used to eating like Kings. It had taken numerous meetings with everyone in the newly built town hall to manage the worry and unrest, but he'd done it. It was times like that that Antonin hated being seen like some kind of de facto leader. He just wanted to continue to design houses for others, and mind his own business.

But, before long, they were able to restore services and even expand their village to accommodate the growing number of adventurers who came to join them. Food stores were at all time highs, seeing as Yaxley had come up with a way to help preserve the fresh food that they harvested every fall, and they'd begun breeding livestock.

Antonin looked around the party, happy to see that everyone was enjoying themselves. Nastasha was playing with Xeno - with their similar blond curls, it was almost as though they could be siblings - and Pasha was playing hide and go seek with some of the older boys. He looked around for Hermione, only to find him walking his way, carrying little Hermione.

She sat down in the bench next to him, holding the baby on her lap. She turned to look at her husband, wide doe eyes trained on him, lashes fluttering. "I think that I want another baby, Antonin."

He felt a surprised gasp leave him, but Yax saved him before he had to talk. "Oh, not another one! You really want another little ankle nipper following you around? Nastasha barely leaves you alone as is." Antonin knew that Reuben was teasing, but also that he missed Hermione when she wasn't able to help him brew as often.

She just laughed at him. "Well, yes. Just being around this little one makes me miss having a baby to cuddle." It was times like this that Antonin wondered what kind of life Hermione Granger would have had if she'd been able to go to Hogwarts. Would she be a veritable housewife like she was now or some great scholar or ambassador? The only thing that kept him sane was her repeated promises that she loved the life she shared with him.

"You are just saying that because she has your name." Yaxley teased, though they could all agree that little Hermione was a nearly perfect baby.

"As if you don't like being godfather to my children." Hermione scoffed. "Surely you wouldn't mind one more!"

"Yes." Antonin said, kissing her against the temple. When Hermione had revealed that she was pregnant the first time, she was afraid that she was trapping _him_ in their marriage. Maybe it was a little bit selfish, but if Hermione bore him another child, he knew that she would be a little more trapped with _him_. No matter how silly that statement was. "I can at least promise lots of practice." He whispered in her ear.

"Oi, not in front of the littl'n!" Yaxley hissed, those his reddened cheeks made it clear it was not the baby's ears that were embarrassed.

"Just doing my part to populate the new country." Antonin teased. That _was_ the directive, the whole reason they'd been sent over, wasn't it? In fact, it was not the first time, and certainly wouldn't be the last, that he thanked King Voldemort for his little wife. While he'd initially scorned the program, he knew that he loved his fille du roi with all his heart.


End file.
